


Moments

by sas479



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-11-22 21:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 23,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11388516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sas479/pseuds/sas479
Summary: There can be no greater definition of stupidity or bravery, insanity or clarity, hubris or humility, than falling in love with your best friend. A collection of Scorpius/Rose one-shots.





	1. Tea

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi friends! I'm thinking of doing a collection of little one shots, each chapter based off a single word. If you'd like me to write for a specific word, feel free to suggest one in a review or message me. This piece is also up on ff.net

**A/N: Hi friends! I'm thinking of doing a collection of little one shots, each chapter based off a single word. If you'd like me to write for a specific word, feel free to suggest one in a review or private message me.**

****Tea** **

Scorpius Malfoy was terrible at making tea.

Rose, being a seasoned connoisseur of the beverage, knew this perfectly well as she sipped her cup quietly on his bed; the temperature was all wrong and the taste was awfully bland. And yet, regardless of Scorpius's atrocious skills, regardless of the fact that she herself could make tea of unsurpassed taste and perfection, she wouldn't consider drinking tea brewed by anyone else.

The fact that, despite his grumblings and complaints when she asked, he stood up, walked down to the kitchen and brewed tea just for her was enough to touch Rose's heart, though she hid it well.

The tea Scorpius made had a very sweet flavor, one that couldn't be tasted by the tongue, but rather, by the heart. It was a sweetness that was gentle, kind and compassionate, that struck a chord inside her. She could practically taste the clumsy but well-meant effort he put into making this tea for her.

But she sensed there was something more – a deeper undertone, barely perceptible underneath everything else, but definitely there. It was a strange but exceedingly pleasant flavor; warm, fragrant and mellow, a very tender, soft sensation that Rose felt. She didn't even understand it herself, but it made her feel lighter and happier than she had ever felt before.

Of course, that was something Rose would never admit openly; it was just a cup of tea after all.

"Scorpius, this tastes dreadful. Make me another cup."

"Make it yoursel – ow!" Scorpius exclaimed as he earned a playful slap. He shot her an irritated glare as he settled his hand over hers to still it.

Scorpius didn't notice that in spite of her admonitions about his dreadful tea, Rose had drained the entire cup empty, not a single drop left.


	2. Freckles

**Freckles**

Rose hated her freckles. She looked like someone sprinkled cinnamon all over her pale skin and as much as she wanted to cover them up, they only seemed to become more pronounced as she got older.

The only patches of skin that were virtually freckle- free were the backs of her hands, save a couple which were currently being covered with the spatter of ink as she furiously scratched her quill across her Potions essay.

She had been in the library studying with Scorpius for hours. Weary but determined, Rose wanted to finish as quickly as possible so she could go back to her dormitory and rest. Nothing could slow her down, but suddenly her hand was covered by one much larger and warmer than hers.

"You have a bit of ink on your hand," he explained, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Oh, thanks," she stammered.

"I never noticed this freckle before," he mentioned casually, rubbing the pad of his thumb in a circle near the skin between her thumb and pointer finger.

"Well I have about a million so naturally you wouldn't notice some of them." She tried to laugh, but she sounded a bit hysterical (due to exhaustion no doubt, not the fact that her heart was suddenly racing and her hand felt tingly where he continued running his fingers over her hand).

His brow furrowed at her words and his long, pale fingers swept over the flecks of ink that covered her freckles, trying to uncover every last one.

Suddenly she didn't hate her freckles as much as she once did.


	3. Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There are two quotes used in this one shot. The first is E.A. Bucchianeri, and the second is F Scott Fitzgerald, but for the sake of this little story, I attribute them to a wizard author I looked up on Harry Potter Wikia.

##### Book

Scorpius loved everything about books. He loved the musty, rectangular form of them; their tactile, pulpy weight; the sound they made when he tapped his fingers on their covers.

His favorite was a tattered, dog-eared, marked-up copy of Enchanted Encounters by Fifi LaFolle which he had read nearly forty times. Rose had teased him more times than he could count for his taste in literature, but he didn't care; Rose was the only one who knew this was his favorite book anyway. He had just settled into his usual squishy armchair and a particularly engrossing passage when a certain red-head broke his concentration.

"This book, again? You don't have it memorized by now?" She teased.

"Nearly," he drawled.

"I don't see why you read it over and over again. The story won't change you know," she pointed out.

"True, but I'm a different person each time I read it. I always notice something new that I haven't before."

"Well maybe I'll have to borrow it sometime. See what all the fuss is about," she smiled.

"Sure," he responded casually.

As soon as the utterance left his lips he knew it was a lie. Scorpius would never let his best friend borrow this particular copy of his favorite book. It revealed far too many secrets. One secret in particular that he could never tell her.

_Falling in love is very real, but I used to shake my head when people talked about soul mates, poor deluded individuals grasping at some supernatural ideal not intended for mortals but sounded pretty in a poetry book. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot.…I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything_ , LaFolle had written.

Scorpius had written off the main character's epiphany towards the end of the book as a sappy cliché, rolling his eyes each time he got to it. But what he had told Rose was true though. He was a different person each time he reread this book and now he was all too intimate with the main character's plight. Falling in love was very real, and sometimes very painful.

He looked down at the book once more, down at the three little letters he had scribbled in the margins the day he realized he was in love, the week before she started dating Connor Creevey. RGW. Rose Ginevra Weasley.

He could never let her borrow his copy.


	4. Distracted

**Distracted**

Penelope Summers was lovely, really. She was beautiful, sweet, funny. She had a certain vulnerability and shyness that people found naturally endearing. When she took an interest in Scorpius, he had been slightly shocked; he never would have guessed she would make the first move. But when she looked up at him with her large, doe-like eyes and asked him on a date to Hogsmede, he couldn't say no to her.

Their relationship had just reached the three-month mark when things took a sudden turn for the worst. The absolute worst, the one thing he did not allow himself to think about.

It happened while kissing her near the statue of Wilfred the Wistful.

They went through the usual motions; she melted into his arms and against his lips. She curled her fingers through his hair gingerly. Her kisses were always soft and sweet, but lacking in passion. It always felt clumsy and unsatisfying, leaving Scorpius with a hollow feeling in his chest. Without intending to, his mind had always been left to wander while kissing her.

On this particular night, Scorpius was even more distracted than usual. His mind was filled with thoughts of what had happened just a few hours earlier when he had caught a glimpse of Robert Nott, Rose's newest insufferable boyfriend, kiss her as they left the Great Hall.

Scorpius tried to push the image from his mind, but it permeated his every thought. Suddenly, Scorpius was struck with the overwhelming wrongness of it all; of Nott kissing Rose, of him kissing Penelope. His thoughts rushed to correct it. Penelope's straight blonde hair was replaced by auburn curls and muddy brown eyes were replaced by crystal blue ones. Rose's name slipped out of his mouth before he even realized it was happening, abruptly ending any future he may have had with the fifth year Hufflepuff.

She cried; not that he could blame her. If she'd lovingly dropped another man's name from her lips he would have been crushed. He stayed with her while she cried and said he was sorry the whole time. Scorpius had never felt more ashamed than he had in that moment. And even though Penelope sniffled "it's okay" to him each time he apologized, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive himself for hurting her. Then she asked it, the question he prayed she wouldn't.

"It's always been her hasn't it?" Penelope had looked up at him with her large brown eyes, eyes he had imagined were blue only minutes before. They both knew the answer before he nodded in affirmation. She surprised him when her only reaction was a small smile. "You know, Scorpius, I saw her look at you after she kissed Nott in the Great Hall earlier. I don't think you're the only one who gets distracted while kissing someone else."

Scorpius didn't know what to say to that. He could only stare at his shoes and let the wistfulness and guilt wash over him.


	5. Epiphany

**Epiphany**

It was unusually quiet that day in the library. Their usual secluded corner was silent, but it was a companionable, comfortable silence that gently enveloped the two of them.

Rose didn't realize how long she had been staring at him.

She wasn't exactly sure why, and it was a little embarrassing for her to admit, but for some reason, she enjoyed just sitting there and watching him very much. It was difficult for her to express in words; but somehow, it calmed her just to watch him. There was no need for speaking or moving or conversation of any sort, just looking at Scorpius was enough.

She often wondered to herself, when they sat like this, watching Scorpius turn another page in his book, what exactly did he see when he looked at her?

Did he notice every single insignificant detail about her, the way she did with him? It was days like this when he was so engrossed by his books that she had the opportunity to study him, to take in the subtle changes to his appearance over the years.

The newest development was to his hair. He had always kept it short and practical, but he must have forgotten to cut it over the summer. It had grown out in thick, undulating blonde waves. The stark white blonde color highlighted the dark grey of his eyes and the new length called attention to the subtle changes in the shape of his face as it resettled into more adult lines, losing the softness of childhood.

When it came to Rose, there were many things about the way she felt about Scorpius that she couldn't string coherently together into words. And yet, today, it sprung into her mind immediately.

Scorpius was beautiful.

And not just physically; he was one of those people who had a beautiful soul. Intelligent, creative, happy- he was one of those people who was really _alive._ He exuded his calming energy and ability to love so fiercely and with such passion that it made her question how she didn't come to this realization long ago.

Few could comprehend what Rose felt at that moment, sitting there with her eyes upon the most important person in her life. A sudden wave of possessiveness overpowered her. He was hers and hers alone.

And yet, she realized she was afraid; more so than ever in her life, because never had she felt such a strong need for something or someone. After all, the more precious something was, the greater fear there was of losing it. It was overwhelming, the way she felt simultaneously insecure yet completely at peace with him by her side.

Across the table, Scorpius looked up suddenly, perhaps sensing the intensity of her stare, his hand midway through turning a page in his book.

"You okay, Rose?"

His voice, always soft and calm, shook her out of her thoughts. She felt her heart suddenly skip a beat in her chest, her breath catching itself in her throat, as the realization dawned on her, and she wanted to cry and laugh with joy and relief.

_Yes, I'm okay. I'm with you._


	6. Unsteady

**Unsteady**

Rose liked to think that everything about her was steady- her gaze, her voice, the way she held herself- but when it came to Scorpius she was anything but calm. Nearly every time she saw him lately she felt as though her stomach was dropping into a Wronski Feint. Something had shifted; they didn't talk about it but there was a new, palpable energy between them.

It was in the way she watched him gnaw absently on the ends of his quills, imagining he was nibbling on her lips instead. It was in the way she found herself staring at his shirt clinging to his chest when he bent over a boiling cauldron. It was in the way she would watch him loosen his tie at dinner and rub the back of neck.

But mostly it was in his fascination with touching her whenever he had the opportunity. He used any excuse really. His hand would linger too long when he passed her a book in the library. He'd bump his shoulder against hers when teasing her. He'd graze her fingers when passing the pumpkin juice at dinner. He'd lie down next to her under their tree at the Black Lake so that they were touching from shoulders to toes, and then read as if he could concentrate on anything but her.

Each time he casually touched her, her heart sped up nervously, going into overdrive when his skin made contact with hers. Flustered, she would always smile broadly at him and act as if nothing had changed, that they were still best friends, and not teetering towards something more. Technically they were friendly gestures, but she had become hyper aware of them, and would replay them in her mind late at night.

What was wrong with her? He was her best friend; she shouldn't be having these thoughts. She would be humiliated if Scorpius found out her feelings were no longer purely platonic. She could have sworn she saw Scorpius smirk each time he saw her bite her lip and blush nervously though.

She felt off balance, as if at any moment the strange new energy between them would knock her over and she'd be left humiliated. She had never intended to fall in love with her quiet, bookish best friend. She often felt like the heroine of a bad teen romance, the helpless girl internally bemoaning her unrequited love.

It was undeniable though, Rose Weasley was falling for her best friend, and falling hard. That was just the way love was, she supposed- it always left you a little unsteady.


	7. Snow

**Snow**

Scorpius Malfoy, while having the cool exterior that reminded people of snow, hated the stuff.

He hated feeling cold, hated the shivers that involuntarily shook his body, hated everything about winter and the things associated with it. It was ridiculous to him that people could actually like being out in the slush - that they would willingly go out of their cozy little rooms to play in the wet and cold. Maybe he was being a wimp. He didn't care. The fact remained that he hated cold weather, hated snow, hated everything involved with it.

And so, he hated today, in which he was dragged out to play in the stuff by his best friend, who happened to love the winter weather more than anything.

She always quick to point out that winter was magical; that something about the numbing chill and excitement as the holidays approached had always appealed to her. Not to mention that the world changed when it snowed. It was quiet; everything softened, she claimed.

He knew that her strongest memory of her childhood involved snow. She was small, maybe three or four, and she had a terrible ear infection that kept her home in bed all day with nothing to do. So she wished really hard that something wonderful would happen to her, and she woke up the next morning and it had snowed. She had been sure that some fairy godmother had done it just for her; that it was her little present. And since that day, when the first snow arrived, she always took a moment to pause and appreciate the beauty of it, dragging Scorpius along with her, much to his disdain.

He hugged his arms tightly to his body, trying to blot out the chatter of everyone else around him as they trudged up to a space of clear ground, thick with a white covering of winter. He was just looking at the way that the snow fluttered around Rose's lovely red hair when he noticed it. It was a small shudder; however, she was so slight that even the smallest of shivers rippled through her body causing her to quake. He noted her bare neck and before he knew it, he unwound the blue scarf from his neck and swung it around hers, securing it tightly.

Maybe it was because of the sudden warmth his scarf had provided for her, or maybe it was due the chill in the air, but a pink glow suddenly warmed Rose's cheeks. From that moment on, Scorpius hated the snow and cold a little less; after all, Rose did look rather lovely in his scarf.

**A/N: This is an outtake from when this chapter was in Rose's pov, but I still like it so I thought I'd include it here:**

_But if Rose was being truly honest with herself, winter was her favorite season because of the colors of it all; something about being by the Black Lake surrounded by crisp white snow and the steely gray water made her smile. It had nothing to do with the fact that these colors matched Scorpius' hair and eyes perfectly. It didn't._


	8. Patronus

**Patronus**

It didn't surprise Scorpius in the slightest that her patronus was a chestnut mare.

Spirited, gentle, passionate, strong-hearted, and beautiful, it represented Rose perfectly. A hush fell over the 4th years as they watched the horse float across the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with quiet dignity and grace. She was the youngest Hogwarts student able to produce a corporeal patronus in years. Scorpius, while proud of his best friend, couldn't suppress the gnawing jealousy and frustration that his own charm was nothing more than a wisp of silvery light.

He tried to focus on happy memories; the day he left for Hogwarts and met Rose, he first time he beat her at Wizard's chess, the time his mother and father first took him to the British Library in London; but his charm remained as insubstantial as mist.

Scorpius sighed and resigned to watching Rose's mare continue to stroll around everyone else's wisps of soft white light that disappeared moments after leaving their wands.

It wouldn't be until a few years later, after his first kiss with Rose, that Scorpius had a happy memory strong enough to produce a corporeal patronus.

It didn't surprise him in the slightest that his patronus was a chestnut stallion.


	9. Interrupted

**Interrupted**

Her mother owned very old copies of rare books, their pages so fragile they were liable to turn to dust if someone touched them, and Rose felt the same responsibility of enormous care now as she brushed her fingers over the buttons down Scorp's shirt, across the hollows between his ribs, and down the slope of his stomach; he shuddered under her ministrations. Here was something as breakable as it was lovely.

His lips were soft. Deliberate and unhurried, his lips drifted across hers as if he were speaking to her silently, saying with the brush of his lips on hers what he could not say in words. He traced slow, glancing butterfly kisses across her mouth, each as measured as the beat of a heart, each saying she was precious, irreplaceable, and wanted. Rose could no longer keep her hands at her sides. She reached to cup the back of his neck, to tangle her fingers in the light silky waves of his hair, to feel his pulse hammering against her palms.

Scorpius did not seem able to stop touching her either. His slim, trembling fingers grazed her skin with a soft and urgent grace that left her breathless. He reached down and touched her cheek, so close to his, then the fragile skin of her throat, where the blood beat beneath the surface. Her eyelashes fluttered down as she followed the movement of his finger with her eyes. He kissed the delicate veins on the insides of her wrists and on her eyelids before bending to kiss her bare shoulder as the fabric of her robes slid aside.

She felt the hot press of his mouth again at the hollow of her throat, then lower. She felt his shy hand slip around her body. Her head slanted to the side as he parted her lips with his and they were not so much kissing as devouring each other. Her fingers gripped his hair tightly, hard enough it must have hurt, and her teeth grazed his lower lip. He groaned and pulled her tighter, making her gasp for air.

His grip on her was firm as he explored his mouth thoroughly with his. The movement of his tongue as he flicked it lightly across her lips send delicious shudders through her whole body; her bones melted and her nerves seared. She yearned to pull him tighter against her- but he was being so gentle with her, so maddeningly gentle. She could feel how much he wanted her in the trembling of his hands, the hammering of his heart against hers.

No one else ever kissed her with such persuasive intensity and thinly controlled hunger; she tasted salt and heat in her mouth and the gasp of his breath. And then he gentled yet again, with a force of restraint she could feel all through her body and the slide of lips against lips the interplay of tongue and teeth altered from pain to pleasure in the silver of a moment.

Her bones felt as if they had turned to glass. They seemed to be shattering all through her body. She crumpled backward, pulling him with her, letting the weight of his body push them both down into his bed. She clutched at his shoulders, her eyes dark with hunger and impatience. Pressing against his body as if she could meld them into one person, she knew she would never get enough of this, enough of him to satisfy her need while he was being so gentle and cautious.

"Scorpius," she whispered against his mouth. She wanted him closer to her so badly, it was like an ache, a painful hot ache that spread out from her stomach to speed her heart and knot her stomach.

His response was immediate and startling. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, his body going very still. She ran her fingers along the waistband of his trousers, her heart pounding, hardly knowing what she was doing. There was an instinct here, driving her that she couldn't identify or explain. Her hand curved around his waist, thumb flicking against his hipbone, drawing him down.

He slid down over her, slowly, elbows resting on either side of her shoulders. Their eyes met but neither of them spoke. He lowered himself slowly. She arched upwards wanting to meet his mouth with hers, but he drew back, nuzzling at her.

"Patience, Rose," he murmured, nipping at her ear. Her need for him increased in intensity, only causing him to chuckle and continue his ministrations on her neck.

"Scorpius?"

Scorpius bit his lip, cringing. Why did Albus have to choose _now_ to come up here? Wasn't he supposed to be at Quidditch practice?

"Yes?" Scorpius asked, trying not to let his voice quiver. Thank goodness he had remembered to close the curtains around his bed earlier; it was typically how he indicated to his roommates that he was studying and not to be disturbed.

"Are you still studying?"

Scorpius looked down, which he realized belatedly was the wrong idea. The sight of Rose squirming beneath him was very nearly his undoing.

"Yes." One word answers seemed like the best option.

"Are you nearly finished?"

Scorpius glared – or did his best to glare – as Rose continued to kiss Scorpius on his shoulder and neck. _Nowhere close_ , he thought weakly, sure that Rose was smirking. "Soon."

Albus didn't say anything for a moment. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Growling at Rose under his breath, Scorpius decided that he was going to kill her. Did she really need to be doing _that_ with her tongue to his ear, driving him insane with need, while her cousin was in the room?

"Fine," Scorpius said, fingers fisting into the bedcovers. "Just finding it a little hard to concentrate."

"Oh, sorry," Albus apologized. "Didn't mean to interrupt. I'll be down in the kitchens if you want anything."

Scorpius screwed up his face. _Go away, go away, go away!_ He liked his dorm mate, he really did, but he loved what Rose was doing to him more and wanted to be able to appreciate it properly. "Knick me a treacle tart."

"Will do, mate. See you later."

Holding his breath until he heard the door close firmly, Scorpius let out a long, low moan. "Oh, god. Couldn't you have... couldn't you have stopped for _one minute_?" Rose didn't stop the infuriating circling of her tongue, but Scorpius did hear a self-satisfied sort of noise from his girlfriend.

"You're evil," he whined.

She smiled, her hand sliding across his stomach. Leaning in, she brushed a rogue lock of hair from his temple and kissed him there. "Well, you told me to be patient and you know how bad I am at that," she purred, pressing herself against him.

"Lucky for you we're in a hurry now; Albus will be back from the kitchens in less than-," Scorpius was cut off by Rose's lips, impatient to carry on before they were inevitably interrupted again.


	10. Punch

**Punch**

He wasn't jealous.

He wasn't.

She could date whoever she bloody well liked, she had been doing so since fourth year and he had never said so much as one word about it.

Jacob Weatherly, however, was the most insufferable prat he had ever had the misfortune of knowing.

He was an arsehole; a sixth year Gryffindor quidditch player with a sparkling smile and an ego more bloated than Slughorn's belly. Scorpius could not stand him from the start. He experienced a feeling of general animosity toward all of Rose's flames, but Weatherly sauntered right past bitterness into all-encompassing hatred and poorly controlled rage.

It was a rainy Monday morning when Scorpius overheard the rather odious conversation on his way down to the Herbology greenhouses. Weatherly, walking to class with his friends, was making crude gestures with his grimy hands. It wasn't until Scorpius got closer that he realized Weatherly was describing, in great detail, how Rose looked naked. The surrounding boys heckled and cheered alternately, driving Weatherly to ever more graphic detail.

He wasn't jealous.

He wasn't.

He was enraged.

Scorpius and Weatherly were both so stunned by what happened next that neither of them knew how to react in the aftermath. Scorpius, on an impulse and fueled by total fury, slammed the older boy against the wall of the greenhouse, violent and snarling.

"Don't ever talk about Rose like that," he threatened, practically spitting in his face, only an inch away from him. He didn't know what possessed him, but suddenly he found himself punching Weatherly over and over, unleashing the pent up aggression he'd felt towards the prat for months now.

He was dragged off by Professor Longbottom straight to the Headmaster's office, but Scorpius couldn't muster up any kind of apology. He was still thinking about how if Weatherly's story was true, he would do something much worse than punch him later.


	11. Unspoken

**Unspoken**

Scorpius Malfoy was a man of few words. Not that he didn't have anything to say, he just preferred to keep his thoughts private. He had always been thoughtful and considerate, always careful to think before he spoke.

He couldn't keep anything from Rose Weasley though. She always teased that she could read him like one of their beloved books; that he couldn't hide anything in his facial expressions or in his eyes. Never before had this been an issue. Scorpius, while private, had nothing to hide.

Recently Rose's uncanny ability to read him had become a problem though. Scorpius had a great secret, and it was his most worrying fear that Rose would inevitably discover it. He was desperately in love with her, and hadn't the faintest idea how to tell her.

He was a master of his spoken words but a slave to those which remained unspoken.

The words he most desperately wished to speak weighed heavily in his mind, choking and gagging him. _Rose, I love you_. Four words. Four simple words, but he had no idea how to tell her, or how to even begin.

He concluded that there could be no greater definition of stupidity or bravery; insanity or clarity; hubris or humility; than falling in love with your best friend. And telling Rose about the depth of his feelings proved a daunting challenge.

She had said it to him once, when they were young and the words didn't carry the weight they did now. It had been a mundane Tuesday morning. Rose, who arrived late to breakfast, scooped a scone off of Scorpius' plate, and muttered, "Morning, Scorp," as she took a section of his newspaper and started to skim The _Daily Prophet's_ Quidditch League results.

"Morning, Rosie." Scorpius replied, distracted by his own article.

"Scor, I love you, but call me Rosie one more time and I swear to Dumbledore I will hex you."

"Someone's in a good mood this morning," he teased. He tried to keep his tone even, but internally his head was spinning.

She loved him. Not like that, of course, she said it so casually. But still, she loved him. His heart contracted and stuttered sporadically.

For the rest of the day the words replayed in his head over and over. _Scor, I love you. Scor, I love you. Scor, I love you._

 _Rose, I love you._ Why couldn't he tell her?

Sometimes the words they left unspoken were the most important ones that should be said. He would tell her, one day. But he suspected somehow she already knew.

When he thought about it, they actually said "I love you" all the time, just not with those words. It was in their every action, every glance, an unspoken subtext.

It was when he said "take a sweater, it's cold out," or when she casually requested him to hurry back whenever he left the room. It was when he made her tea and when she would rise on her tip toes to kiss him gently on the cheek "just because."

Their relationship had become so multifaceted and their compatibilities so intricately dovetailed that they were perfect and irreplaceable halves of the same whole. There was no need for words between them.

So it remained unspoken. But they both knew.


	12. Silence

**Silence**

Rose had always wondered how you could be "alone with someone." If you were with them, weren't you, by definition, _not_ alone? But she felt entirely alone now, for Scorpius seemed to be somewhere else completely. He had the hollow, vacant look in his eye that one could only have from losing a parent.

He leaned against the wall by the door of his mother's bedroom and yet he seemed as insubstantial as a ghost.

"Scorpius," she whispered as she approached him.

He did not seem to hear her. He was numb, his body stiff with strain and tension.

"Scorpius," she repeated, more loudly.

"She never spent them, you know. The knuts," he indicated to the jar sitting on his mother's dresser. "I always teased her, but she collected them, let them pile up day after day. There's probably five galleons here. Five galleons she'll never spend..." His voice trembled and cracked as he looked at her with an expression she could only describe as heartbreakingly helpless and lost.

These were the first full sentences he had managed all morning, and they broke her heart. She couldn't think of a response.

There wasn't anything she could say that would make things better, though she was tempted to try. Instead she simply took his hand, and tried to provide any level of comfort she could. There was no way for her to soothe the tension of his muscles, his whole body was stretched and stiff. She saw the waiting tears welling in his eyes, she imagined them burning him like an acid. But he still refused to cry.

He had been a stone all morning. Stone, while he looked at the flowers. Stone, while he received condolences. Stone when he gripped Rose's hand so tightly she thought her circulation would be cut off. Stone, while he told his mother goodbye. And now that he's gone into his mother's room and opened a crack in the stone, it all threatened to come pouring out. He rested his head against the door frame, trying to regain control before facing the rest of the room.

Astoria's bedroom could fool you. The rumpled bed, the pile of unwashed robes in her hamper, the smell of her perfume which still lingered, no one had touched anything. It could fool you into thinking nothing had changed.

Scorpius, who had been wandering around in numb pain for days, didn't seem to understand what was happening around him. He didn't want to understand. He didn't want to see or hear, he couldn't gather his thoughts and his mind. These thoughts – they zipped through his synapses, escaping the stark reality that sprung up in front of his eyes. It got to him, empting him of every emotion, leaving a dense clot of nothing in his chest. It was becoming harder to bear the smarting pain pressing against his temples. His gaze became vacant, as if he was actually looking at nothing.

Picture frames lined the rest of the dresser. He couldn't bring himself to look at them. He moved on, knowing that if he focused too long on one thing, the little fissure in his heart would turn into a cavern.

He turned towards the bed, as though it could offer solace from the sight of the dresser. The bed, complete with rumpled blanket and dented pillow was untouched too. The new dress robes Astoria bought last week lay at the end. Robes she would never get to wear. He picked them up, unfeeling, unaware of the depth of his denial and pain.

"It's okay to cry you know," Rose whispered.

These seemed to be the magic words. It was as if she had opened the floodgates and he couldn't stop the tears. He cried until his whole body hurt, until he couldn't feel anything anymore. He cried until he trembled. He cried until his eyes are dry and there were no more fluids inside his body. The sorrow and pain has crept into his bones, into his muscles, and it was slowly getting into his lungs. She rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him. He continued clutching the robes and she continued to clutch him.

He was forever grateful that Rose was there. While he tried to hide his pain from others, he didn't have the energy to hide it from her too. He was particularly thankful that she didn't try to tell him everything was going to be okay, or that she knew what he was going through, or that his mum was in a better place. He knew people said these things in an attempt to comfort him, but the words meant nothing to him right now.

Scorpius preferred when people said nothing, and Rose's silence spoke volumes. A friend who could be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who could stay with us in an hour of grief, who could tolerate not knowing, not healing, not curing, that was a friend who cared. And no one cared more than his Rose.


	13. Running

**Running**

It was morning, just the blue beginning of it. Rose's heart sloshed inside her chest and her legs were concrete blocks as her feet rhythmically slapped against the dewy grass. The muscles in her calves scrunched up and resisted the repetitive motion as she laboriously circled the black lake.

The sky formed a muggy grey cage; her tight lungs suffocated. A revolting stickiness plastered a loose curl against the nape of her neck. She wanted nothing more than to enjoy the throbbing, sultry heat completely immobile, preferably back in her bed, asleep. But she kept pushing; kept running. The heat numbed her mind and she grew to enjoy the whooshing, much more rhythmic breathing of the boy beside her.

Scorpius was hell bent on making the quidditch team this year. He trained all summer long, and now with trials only a week away, he was more determined than ever to do whatever it took to succeed. Even if it meant waking up at a ridiculous hour, dragging his best friend with him in what she saw as a pointless endeavor.

"Once more around the lake then?" He asked her. She hated how steady his voice was when she felt as though her lungs were shriveled up inside her, disabling her from making any noise at all.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" She whined and came to a panting stop. "Mornings are not meant for circling the grounds like a greyhound."

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad. I'll make you a deal- beat me this lap and you can copy my potions notes for a week."

"A month."

"Three weeks."

"Deal."

She didn't stand a chance of winning though. His legs were much longer, and thanks to his recent obsession with training, he was much more fit. She found her thoughts drifting to how he had filled out, how the girls in their year had begun giggling and whispering about him much more than the year before. She huffed in irritation, distracted again when she noticed how his t-shirt clung tightly to his broad chest and new arm muscles.

These thoughts made her even slower than she was before and she gave up all pretense of their ridiculous race, slowing to a stroll. He caught up to her easily and flopped down in the grass, chest heaving.

"Guess you'll be taking your own potions notes," he chuckled with a lopsided smile. "Merlin, it's starting to get hot," he added. Suddenly, his shirt was missing and it took everything in Rose's power to only look at his face.

She didn't mind losing that much. Not when a much better reward was stretched out next to her.


	14. PDA

**PDA**

"So, how was Hogsmeade?" Rose asked Allie Longbottom that evening at dinner.

"Oh, you know," she said evasively, grinning slyly.

"No, and now that I think about it, I don't think I want to," Rose wrinkled her nose.

Allie was Albus' girlfriend, and they had a reputation for obscene displays of affection in public. Rose found their entire relationship akin to some sort of grotesque performance art. She herself was not opposed to the occasional kiss in public, but she liked to think that her PDA with Scorpius was practically nonexistent, if not subtle.

Besides, at this point they had much more fun with smirks across the table while sharing an inside joke, private smiles, and goofy faces when they made eye contact across a room. They were developing a language that was entirely untranslatable into words, a special vocabulary of gestures and glances and increasingly deep kisses that was growing richer, more intense, and more complex by the day. She liked to think that they didn't even need words sometimes. They were so attuned to each other after years of friendship that she could often glance at him and know exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

Glancing around, Allie leaned in and smirked, "Well I'll tell you about it anyway. Though Albus and I may or may not have spent most of it snogging," she admitted with a wink.

"Ugh, gross! That's my cousin you're talking about, you know." She pointed out, leaning away from her and wrinkling her nose again.

Allie laughed at Rose's reaction. "I'll spare you the more salacious details then," she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"I don't need them, I've seen enough of you two to fill in the blanks with plenty of disturbing images," Rose remarked dryly. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"No problem," Allie said brightly. "So how about you? Did you get a lot of studying done?"

"More or less," She muttered, distracted as Albus and Scorpius joined them across the table.

She wasn't about to admit to Allie and Albus that she and Scorpius achieved very little progress learning the blushing charm but that Scor had easily achieved the desired results, non-magically. She looked at her boyfriend appraisingly, re-living their afternoon.

"Can you two give it a rest? I'm trying to enjoy my food, not be permanently scarred for life." Albus complained.

"What are you talking about?" Rose questioned, snapping her eyes away from the blonde and towards her cousin.

"He means that you're practically undressing Scor with your eyes," Allie laughed and Albus groaned. Rose retracted, as if Allie had hit her with a stunning spell.

Words failed her, even though there were a thousand of them jostling for position on her tongue. They wouldn't arrange themselves, so Rose shook her head and inhaled sharply through her nose.

"I ... I was not!" Was all she could manage. She was beyond appalled.

Albus shook his head, incredulous that Rose didn't realize how bad they were. "Oh please, the two of you are about as subtle as a flying Ford Anglia. You're almost as bad as Allie and I are," Albus joked, making Allie laugh even harder than before.

Maybe they weren't as discreet as Rose liked to believe.

"Well I don't mind it," Scorpius smirked and gave her the same look she had been giving him.

Albus let his fork fall on the edge of his plate with a clatter. "Ugh. Officially done eating now." Albus slouched out of his seat, leaving the remaining three laughing over their treacle tart.


	15. Confidence

**Confidence**

Scorpius had never met anyone with Rose's brash confidence. Everything about her exuded it: the way she carried herself, with buoyancy in her shoulders; the hard set of her jaw when she made up her mind about something; the authenticity in her tone and the way she ended every sentence with a declarative period, never a question mark; these things he admired and slightly envied. Her confidence was infectious and he loved it. She wasn't with him now though, and his lack of borrowed confidence left his hands clammy and stomach churning.

He imagined how Rose would tackle this situation, the way she would laugh if she saw how distressed he was as he knocked on the door of her childhood home. Somehow he needed to muster up the courage to ask her father the question that had been permeating in his head for a while now.

He wanted, very seriously, to marry her. He felt it when she laughed in a particular way, when she twirled her hair in boredom, when he caught glimpses of her fiddling a quill between her thumb and forefinger, staring off into the distance, and a smile would crack open his jaw and light his whole face like a lumos charm.

He felt it when she held his hand and quietly told him about her ideas, her insecurities, her hopes for the future. He was so humbled and dazed and breathtakingly ecstatic that she had actually chosen him that he couldn't help but imagine her as his wife.

In ways verging on frighteningly sappy, he would sometimes picture her laughing in some garden, her face rivaling every flower that dared bloom nearby. He would picture her vowing to hold him in sickness and in health, wearing his mother's ring on her left hand, wearing his surname after her first. He wasn't alarmed but encouraged by the images, possessive of a future that materialized slowly, like a daydream. He knew it would become a reality.

Every bone in his body wanted her and only her to be his partner, his better half, the future mother of his children- this intelligent, selfless, confident woman. His unwavering, brave, honest, beautiful Rose.

But first, he had to ask the man she most admired, the man who had raised her and protected her at all costs. The man who loved her so fiercely it rivaled the intensity that Scorpius himself loved Rose.

"Sir," he croaked, clearing his throat nervously as Ron ushered him through the door.

"Scorpius," Ron said evenly, trying to suppress a smile. He knew why the young man was here, knew that Scorpius was going to ask Rose to marry him regardless of his response, and knew that Rose would agree instantly, despite how he felt about it.

It didn't mean he couldn't enjoy watching Scorpius squirm though.

"Have a seat," he gestured to the couch, Ron himself slumping down in a nearby armchair.

"Sir," Scorpius started again, fiddling with a button on his jacket. "I think you know why I'm here. I love your daughter. I always have, and I always will. She's it for me, and I am going to marry her." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had time to revise them. _Idiot,_ Scorpius thought to himself. _Why did I say that? I came here to ask his_ permission, _not just declare I'm going to marry her_.

Scorpius couldn't help but smile when he said it though, it was exactly how Rose would have told her father; a declarative period, never a question mark. She always claimed that was the best display of confidence, even if you didn't really feel it. But, always courteous, he tacked on, "if she'll have me, of course. And I wanted to ask for your blessing before I propose."

"Well, Scorpius, you know I think you're both too young. I wouldn't mind if you waited for a while. For Merlin's sake, you're both barely out of school," Ron pointed out, eyebrows scrunching together.

"I love her, sir." He said it with such confidence, such bold simplicity that it almost made Ron see the situation from his point of view. Scorpius had been in love with his daughter for years, everyone knew it. Even Ron, who was often oblivious to these kinds of things. Of course they were going to get married. It was inevitable from the moment he pointed Scorpius out to her on the train platform.

"I know you do. And if it was any other man I would say no, but," Ron trailed off.

"But?" Scorpius prompted.

"But Rose's mother and I have seen this coming for a while. And Rose is mad about you, so who am I to say no? You have my blessing." Ron rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Thank you, sir." Scorpius smiled, reaching to shake the older man's hand.

Ron couldn't help but think of the first time he properly met Scorpius as a twelve year old boy. Scorpius had shook his hand then too, nervously and limply. He was nothing but a timid, small, bookish child; his daughter's best friend. His handshake now though was one of a steady, loyal, hard-working man; his daughter's future husband. A man he was confident would protect and love his daughter as fiercely as he did.


	16. Avoidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other chapters around the time of this one-shot are 3 and 10 if you want a little bit more context.

**Avoidance**

Fifth year was shaping up to be a very shitty year for Rose's love life, a miserable continuation of the terrible end of fourth year.

At first Connor Creevey had been sweet and charming, the best first boyfriend she could have asked for. He held her hand as they walked to Hogsmede together, laughed and joked with her family, always walked with her to classes. But over time he became unbearably clingy, threatened by her friendship with Scorpius. It had been puppy love, and after he broke it off with her at the end of fourth year, it was far easier pretending she was fine than admitting she wasn't sure what she was.

Scorpius asked her if she was feeling alright. But other than that, they didn't talk about it. As an unspoken rule, the pair did not discuss their love lives with one another. It seemed easier that way. They avoided the conversational minefield of Rose's love life by pretending it didn't exist. Which it didn't, now that Connor was out of the picture.

Armed with her shiny new prefect's badge, Rose was determined to focus more on school and put Connor Creevey behind her. When Jacob Weatherly sauntered into her life that plan was shot to hell though.

Weatherly was a year older, prone to showboating on the quidditch field and laughing too loudly in the hallways. He was one of the most popular boys in school, always surrounded by his friends and a gaggle of girls. Rose swore to herself that she wasn't like those girls, she would never fall for the likes of him. Then he flashed his ultra-white, straight smile directly at her and she was a goner.

As quickly as she fell for him, her entire world fell apart as well.

He started a rumor that they had slept together one rainy Monday morning outside of the Herbology greenhouses. The word spread around the school faster and more destructive than fiendfyre.

She was mortified.

She hated Weatherly, but she hated herself more. Hated that she ever trusted him. Hated how stupid she was for falling for his nice guy facade. Hated that she hadn't listened to Scorpius the month earlier when he told her that Weatherly was a prat.

She felt as though the word 'slag' was tattooed on her forehead. But she didn't care what the rest of the school thought of her; the rumor wasn't true after all. She couldn't look Scorpius in the eye though.

They didn't talk about it; in fact, they didn't have the chance to, he seemed to be avoiding her. The tense silence between them became unbearable.

She finally had the chance to confront him a week later in the library.

"The rumor isn't true," she stated simply. No preamble, no skirting around the uncomfortable fact that this was the longest they had ever gone without speaking to each other. She had no idea how he would respond- pity that everyone was talking about her, disgust that the rumor might be true, anger that she hadn't listened to his warnings about Weatherly- but true to their unspoken agreement, he didn't really talk about it.

"Oh," he breathed.

She didn't know what to make of his non-reaction, so she followed his lead and pulled out her Potions homework.

"Can you help me with number 7? I don't understand why lacewing flies have to be added before the essence of slug."

"I punched Weatherly in the face," he blurted out. "Last week."

"Oh," she mimicked his reaction, trying to sort out what to make of that.

"That's why you haven't seen me. I haven't been avoiding you or anything. I've been in detention every night. But yeah, I can help you with Potions. Let me grab my notes."

They avoided talking about it ever again. But it still lingered between them.


	17. Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter loosely ties back to chapter 5.

**Focus**

When he first became friends with Rose, he was overwhelmed to say the least.

Scorpius, as an only child with no close relations his age, grew up in a quiet, calm, lonely household. He inherited his love of reading from his mother and by the time he left for Hogwarts, he had read nearly every book in her personal collection. It was a soothing, peaceful hobby, and he didn't have any other that he enjoyed as much. He was soft-spoken, polite, and level-headed. If he was being honest with himself, most people would probably find him boring, but he didn't mind. Being quite introverted, it didn't bother him that people kept their distance from him when he first started school.

But Rose seemed completely oblivious to the fact that most people avoided him. She sought him out like a niffler sensing a galleon. She didn't seem to mind or even notice that he wasn't very chatty; she spoke more in one day than he figured he had ever said in his entire life. In fact, she rattled off her stream of consciousness with such speed that if he stopped listening for even a moment, he would miss a whole paragraph worth of information.

Most of what he gained from their first conversations was that the girl had about three dozen abandoned hobbies. One week she was interested in running, the next painting. She tried her hand at photography and quickly moved on yoga. She had her grandma teach her how to knit, but promptly gave up and had her dad teach her chess. She was rubbish at quidditch but had an affinity for exploding snap. In their first month at Hogwarts alone, she was determined to talk to all the ghosts, find out where the kitchens were (she was endless annoyed that her cousin James knew and wouldn't tell her), all while simultaneously earning the top marks in their year (he could be second in their class, she was fine with that but she was under strict instruction from her father to beat Scorpius at every test, so she simply had to do it, no hard feelings).

She was a tiny red-headed ball of constant, boundless energy. She made decisions quickly and acted on them impulsively. She wanted to make her mark on the school, and she wasn't afraid of being noticed. She was constantly trying new things, trying to find something that would actually make her stop and focus, something that she really enjoyed.

Scorpius, quite the opposite in all of these characteristics, was torn between fascination and annoyance. He was happy to have a friend, but the girl was so... flighty. Scorpius prided himself on being deliberate with his thoughts and actions, steady, and focused. But Rose, she couldn't stick to a decision to save her life.

Over the months what he had initially termed as flightiness he soon grew to learn was restlessness. It was as if her tiny body simply could not contain her endless supply of enthusiasm and energy. It grew to be what he most admired about her.

He liked that she was constantly twirling her hair or biting her nails or thrumming her fingers against the cover of whatever book she was reading that day. He loved that her eyes never quite rested on any one thing, instead jumping from her homework to something above him to something behind her, to her hands, to the books on the shelves of the library, before fluttering down to her homework again. It wasn't as though she wasn't paying attention, but rather that she had to take it all in, absorbing every last detail.

Around second year he noticed a change. Rose's restless, twitchy habits would come to a sudden stop, as if someone had hit an off switch on her hands and eyes. She would still, suddenly becoming razor focused. It took him a while to realize this only happened when she looked at him. At first it only happened when he asked her a question, and she would stop everything to look directly at him and respond. But over time, it would happen with more frequency.

She was still a crazy ball of energy, still flipped from interest to interest as easily as he turned the pages in his favorite novels, but she had calmed some when her thoughts drifted towards him. Sometimes she would set down her quill during class and find herself staring at him for a full five minutes before he would realize and stare back at her. Whenever she was caught doing this she would quickly pick up her quill again and resume her circuit of glancing around the room, twirling her quil around, doodling on her parchment, and glancing down at her nails in boredom. Other times he would catch her staring at him while they read in the library. He would notice the cessation of her fingers thumbing through the pages, and sure enough when he looked up her eyes would not be zooming around the library or the pages of her book but would be quite still, glued to his shoulders or his neck or his eyes. It didn't make him self conscious that she was staring at him, if anything he was slightly relieved when she took a break from her constant movements.

And although he would never admit it aloud, it pleased him that very few things could hold Rose's attention, but she always seemed to focus on him. He liked that much more than he should.


	18. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is referring to her thoughts in chapter 5 for this one shot.

**Question**

"It was just one random day, we were sitting in the library and I realized that you were so much more than just my best friend. How about you? When did you realize you were in love with me?"

He couldn't remember a single second he hadn't loved her.

He told her this and lowered himself onto one knee.

"Rose," he started, already choking up. He knew there was no way he would make it even halfway through his planned speech.

"Yes," she gasped, hand flying over her mouth before he even had a chance to continue.

"I didn't even ask you," he laughed, tearing up.

"Yes," she repeated. "Yes, yes. Always, yes." She was torn between laughter and tears, just as Scorpius was.

It turned out he didn't even need to ask his question. They both had the answer already.


	19. Precipice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter builds off of chapter 16. See chapter 4 for more context on Penelope Summers and Robert Nott.

**Precipice**

Their friendship was on a precipice. A very tall, very dangerous, very slippery precipice. They had an unspoken agreement to avoid talking about their love lives with one another, but not mentioning them had become a conversational minefield so dangerous that Rose felt certain their entire friendship would blow up at any moment. After the Jacob Weatherly disaster they continued to play the game, but when she came back from the Christmas holidays to discover Scorpius was seeing Penelope Summers, Rose was no longer interested in playing.

It caught her completely off guard. He had never dated anyone before. As far as Rose was concerned, he didn't even spend much time with any girls besides her. It wasn't her place to say anything, but every time Summers called him "Scorpy" and let out a ridiculous, high pitched giggle she felt the urge to snort and roll her eyes.

The worst part about it was that they matched. Both perfect, shy blondes; both tall and graceful. They even had matching pouty lower lips. She hated that they looked right together. She hated that she felt threatened by Penelope's new claim on Scorpius. She didn't want to act like a possessive brat or take away from Scor's happiness though. So, she stopped playing by the rules of their game.

Instead of pretending everything was normal and ignoring his love life, she started avoiding him altogether. It was probably immature, but she couldn't handle seeing them together. She couldn't handle knowing that her feelings towards Scorpius were changing in ways she didn't fully understand, right as he was starting to date other girls. How selfish was she that she wanted Scorpius all to herself? Not necessarily so that she could date him herself, but at least to prevent other girls from being with him. But Scorpius didn't deserve that. So, she removed herself from the situation. She needed some distance.

Of course, he caught on quickly to what she was doing. She passed off her avoidance of him as simply being busy. He had quidditch practice and prefect duties and Summers sucking on his face every five minutes. She had prefect duties, charms club, and their upcoming OWLs to study for. "Your're being paranoid. I'm not avoiding you. It's not like we can spend every waking moment together _Scorpy_ ," she spat out Penelope's ridiculous name for him as if it were poisoned muled mead sliding over her tongue.

She could have done the mature, adult thing and confront Scorpius and explain to him how she was feeling. But she was a fifteen year old girl, and like most fifteen year old girls she devised a scheme to make him jealous instead. To set her plan in motion, she started seeing Robert Nott, a fellow fifth year who was willing to play along and did a surprisingly good job of filling the Scorpius shaped hole in her heart.

Continuing to avoid Scorpius like he was a case of spattergroit, she was about to duck into the girls' second floor bathroom on the way to Charms when suddenly he outmaneuvered her, cornering her near the tapestry of Lilith the Lovesick.

"Rose, this has gone on long enough. I've respected your space, but you have to let me know what's going on eventually."

She wasn't ready for this conversation. She didn't want to acknowledge that they were standing on the edge of the precipice. She didn't want to admit that she was selfishly trying to make him jealous, to make him admit he had feelings for her so that she could more easily figure out how she felt about him. She was about to apologize and explain everything when the short version of the story came out instead. "I miss you," she admitted.

"I'm right here, Rose." He had taken her words literally. She sighed.

"No, I miss the way we used to be."She twisted her fingers around the hem of her sweater, avoiding eye contact. "When did everything get so complicated?" She mumbled to herself.

"It doesn't have to be complicated." He mused.

"But it is. I feel like I'm losing you. And it's all my fault." She felt her throat tighten and her eyes prick with tears as it finally hit her that she could lose him. She was pushing him away by avoiding him, by seeing Robert, by refusing to acknowledge her changing feelings towards him. She felt full blown panic coming on when Scorpius interrupted her downward spiral by tilting her head up towards his with his forefinger, gently forcing her to look up at him.

"Rose," he gripped the tops of her shoulders tightly. His eyes were cool steel. "You'll never lose me. I would never let that happen."

With his reassurances the precipice suddenly didn't seem as tall, slippery, or dangerous. He was always there to hold them back from the edge. Somehow they would find their way back to safety together.

**(Another) A/N: I'm sure you all caught this, but I had chapter 4 set in front of the statute of Wilfred the Wistful and this scene at the tapestry of Lilith the Lovesick on purpose ;)**


	20. Eyes

**Eyes**

Rose's eyes were a clear, perfect blue. The kind of blue that could only be seen on a sunny, cloudless day.

Scorpius' eyes were the color of clouds before it rained. The kind of grey that felt cozy and hypnotic at the same time.

 _Her_ eyes were the perfect combination of her parent's. A hazy, swirling, mesmeric blue-grey. Her tiny, light eyelashes fluttered, and he was dazed.

He found himself staring into the deepest, bluest oceans of her soul, drowning in them.

The were stunning. Perfect. Impossible.

Scorpius fell in love with Rose's eyes when he was eleven years old. But he fell in love with his daughter's about eleven seconds after she was born.


	21. Sick

**Sick**

To put it mildly, he overreacted every time she got a cold. The old echo of panic, despair and worry from when his mom was sick hovered over him, threatening to bear down and crush him at any moment.

"Are you sure you don't need anything? Another damp towel? Or maybe some tea?" He asked, fluttering his hands around her uselessly. He straightened her blankets for the fourth time that morning and patted at one of her listless auburn curls.

"Thanks, Scor. But really, I just need some sleep." Her voice was scratchier than it had been last night. He made a mental note to pick up more potions for her throat.

He meandered around the bed picking up her discarded robes, scrougifying discarded tissues, and tidying quills and books that lay strewn across the room.

He was stalling, secretly panicking over leaving her, no matter how short the time.

"Okay, I'll be back to check on you in a bit," he said reluctantly. He leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"Oh, don't, Scor. Really, I'm disgusting. You'll get sick," she protested.

Rose was probably right about that. Being her third day stuck in bed, her normally creamy skin was pallid and clammy; her typically bright eyes were dull with tiredness. Her nose was a blotchy red. _It's only a cold. This is just temporary_ , he reminded himself. He couldn't stop the bubbling fear in his stomach though.

"I don't care. I can't stand leaving the room without kissing you."

"You're being a touch melodramatic," she chucked.

He was relieved that she was smiling and looking slightly less miserable than she had the past few days. Her laugh was quickly erased by a series of coughs though, and she closed her eyes in exhaustion. It made him so upset he bent down and kissed her fully on the lips.

When he was sick in bed two days later she said "I told you so" roughly one hundred twenty-seven times.

It was worth it though.


	22. Expectant

**Expectant**

It was a brisk, sunny day, the first mild weather in over a month. Not that Rose would know; she hadn't been outside in weeks. This was her first time venturing out, the first time she had bothered to leave her bed in over a week. Since it happened, she didn't have the energy to do much of anything.

Rose breathed in the crisp autumn air, hoping the loveliness of nature would somehow cleanse her soul and overshadow her sorrow. It smelled of the beginning of autumn, a fresh, sweet-and-bitter scent that no other time of year could produce. Despite the cold, the sun was slightly too bright, almost mocking in its serenity, dipping hazy and low in the darkening sky. It sank relentlessly over the edge of the world in utter quietude, without a care for the chaotic lives upon which it shined.

The crunch of leaves announced her husband's presence long before he reached her not-so-secret hiding place, a yew tree in their backyard, but she chose to ignore him. His footfalls sounded much heavier than usual, as if he wanted to punish the very ground he treaded upon. When Scorpius finally settled beside her and rested his hand over hers, it was like a long breath of air to a drowning man breaking the surface of the water- both necessary to survival, yet somehow painful at the same time. The tension in her lungs remained; she was resisting the comfort he was offering. She didn't deserve it.

Rose knew his mind was probably reeling, wondering why she was out here. She knew he had probably panicked when he got home from work and didn't find her sheathed in the comforter of their bed, hiding from the world. She could picture him debating flooing over to her parent's house to search for her before spotting her on this blanket in the backyard. It was such an unusual sight given the past month that he had probably stood frozen in shock at the sight.

Her musings were correct. Scorpius was cautiously optimistic and wearily suspicious of Rose's sudden entry into the outside world. This was the closest she had let him near her in weeks. As he rested beside her, the dark shadows that stained the thin skin under her eyes frightened him.

"What are you doing out here, Rose?" He broke the silence, knowing she wouldn't.

"Sitting." There was no inflection in her flimsy comment, no eye contact. Nothing. He may as well have been talking to a brick wall.

"How are you feeling today?" He attempted to engage her again.

She didn't reply. He sighed.

"I think… Maybe…" He trailed off, trying to approach the situation delicately.

"Maybe you should talk to someone, Rose," he suggested tentatively. He wasn't used to being guarded around her. But if he was being honest, she was scaring the hell out of him.

"Like a healer?" She muttered vaguely.

She slid her eyes in his direction, glancing at him with such raw sorrow, such lethargy that he broke a little inside. She glanced around at the leaves that surrounded them, then back at him expectantly, searching in his eyes for the cure to their grief. He didn't have any answers. But he knew they had to navigate their grief together, or they risked becoming strangers who happened to live in the same house. He felt like she was slipping away, even as he sat there next to her. He was losing her to the maddening depths of her own despair. She was floundering in it. And he felt powerless to help her, still trying to manage his own anguish.

"Maybe. But someone, Rose. Someone who knows what they're doing. Someone who can help."

"No one can help. You don't understand." Her voice was careful and distant, there was an ache behind the words that he felt twisting around in his chest.

His eyes became glassy from tears he tried not to release. Lingering grief sat in the pit of his stomach like a muddy puddle after a thunderstorm. She was unknowingly wallowing around in that puddle, splashing flecks of pain around his body until it darkened every part of him.

The agony and frustration started to seep out. "I understand more than you think. You're not the only one who lost this baby," he snapped.

At the word _baby_ , she visibly flinched. She tried to think of their eleven-week-old embryo as a _baby_ as little as possible, preferring the term _it_. _It_ had been a possibility, a wonderful possibility, bleeding out of her womb before it even had a chance to live. She became overwhelmingly tired, desperately wanting to hide back in the safety of their bed.

"I don't want to talk anymore," she whispered, removing her hand from his.

"Fine." He replied bitterly. His voice was crisp and icy, so curt it could cut glass.

He made no attempt to move and let her walk towards the house alone. Suddenly overwhelmed with loneliness, he changed his mind. He drifted after her silently, catching up to her and reaching for her hand again.

She clutched onto it with weak yet unrelenting strength. "I'll call a healer after dinner."

He could only nod and look at her expectantly, the ache in his chest being pushed down by little bubbles of hope.


	23. Morning

**Morning**

Rose, unlike almost everyone else in her family, was a morning person. She, unlike Hugo, had never set an alarm clock on fire because she didn't want to wake up. She'd never used a sticking charm to stay under the bedcovers as James had done growing up. She wasn't addicted to coffee just to stay awake like Dom or Roxy. She never skipped morning classes as Albus was prone to do at least once a week.

Rose liked that it was quiet, and that the morning sunlight was always soft and pale, never too bright. She liked that she could sometimes hear the birds sing or even the centaurs strolling in the forest. She wasn't like Louis or Fred; She didn't pull the pillows over her ears to avoid the noise, desperately clinging to her last moments of sleep before having to roll out of bed.

She quite liked mornings.

So, when dawn crept in through the curtains, staining the back of her eyelids a pale pink, she smiled to herself. Though, it simply being morning was not the only reason for her early cheeriness.

She couldn't move an inch without touching him somehow—the hard planes of his body, the silent strength of his thighs caging hers, the broadness of his shoulders leading into the stubborn arms that held her still. The entirety of his weight against her smaller frame sent a pleasurable jolt through her. She loved early mornings and found them infinitely more pleasant when Scorpius was involved.

Her favorite part was resting her ear on his chest, simply listening to his heart beat. _Thump, thump… thump, thump… thump, thump_. So measured and soothing, she felt herself drifting back to sleep. She found herself unable to fully drift off though, kept awake by stray shafts of sunlight that filtered in through the folds of curtains. The buttery light lit up Scorpius' long, gold lashes resting against his cheek, giving him an air of utter peace and vulnerability. She could have stared at him like this for hours, but the sunlight soon woke him.

"Mmm, morning," Scorpius mumbled into her ear as he groggily pecked her forehead.

"Good morning," She chirped.

"I gotta tell you, this is not a bad way to wake up. I could get used to this," he murmured into her hair and stretched out his legs, further entangling their limbs.

"Don't get too used to it, my parents think I'm sleeping at Allie's right now. If mum decides to stop in to talk to Mrs. Longbottom, I'm in major trouble." She fretted.

"Whoa, calm down. It's way too early to be this wound up," he said, still fighting to fully awaken.

"I should go," she said, reluctantly slipping out of his bed.

"Please, stay." He implored. "I'll make you breakfast," he tried to bribe her.

"I would, but I really have to go. I'll owl you when I get to Allie's."

He pouted and ran his hands through his messy hair in a way he knew would make her pause.

She almost gave in.

Almost.

She couldn't run the risk of getting caught and not being able to do this again though. As she apparated away, the image of him sitting alone in his bed, slightly dejected, stuck to her retinas. She made a silent promise to herself that someday, she would wake up next to him in the morning and never have to leave him.


	24. Mistletoe

**Mistletoe**

When Rose and Scorpius officially started dating, it was as if someone had cast a fast forward spell on their relationship. There was no awkward "getting to know each other" phase, no slowly learning each other's weird quirks or learning how to forgive each other after a fight. They had already been doing those things for five years.

The emotional parts of their relationship were so well established, that the physical parts were comparatively lacking.

Rose was self-admittedly inexperienced, just like him, but what they lacked in know-how they made up for in enthusiasm. Like explorers breaching the shores of a far-away place, they were determined to discover it all.

She found herself thinking about the new parts of their relationship constantly. Which wasn't surprising because they were always in contact now. Scorpius always had his hands on some part of her, or at least tantalizingly close. They held hands as they walked to class, he traced the edges of her fingers with his free hand while they studied or took notes in class, he ran his foot along hers under the table in the Great Hall. The constant connection between them, instead of calming her body or numbing her to Scorpius' touch, instead electrified her – she found herself always waiting for his touch, craving it, looking for opportunities to take it just a little bit further…

It didn't take long for an opportunity to present itself.

For the first time, both Rose and Scorpius were staying at school over the Winter Holidays. Scorpius found it hard to be around the Manor after his mother's death, so he went back as little as possible. Rose and Hugo were staying behind as their mother and father had ministry business to attend to with MACUSA.

The night of the Christmas party their kisses were more heated than usual, the promise of something more hanging in the air. When they slipped out of the party, unnoticed, for an abandoned classroom, Rose felt certain something was going to happen tonight.

The only problem was, she wasn't sure if she was ready.

She loved Scorpius, loved him in a way she knew was probably not normal for a sixteen-year-old girl. It was intense, serious, and yet carefree and simplistic. It was never her plan to meet the love of her life when she was eleven, and yet somehow she knew, he was it for her. It was simply as if Destiny had sat her down and said, "listen, kid, you've just honestly got no choice."

This did nothing to assuage her fear though.

It was her greatest anxiety that something would go wrong and she could lose the one person in her life who meant everything to her. If they broke up now it would be painful, it would be excruciating, but they would someday be able to be friends again, she was sure of it. She wouldn't lose him completely. But if they did anything more than just snogging, if they had sex... well, she wasn't so sure. It was why she was so conflicted lately, torn between her desire to both hold back and take it further whenever they were together.

It was hard to think about holding back whenever they were together like this though.

Rose liked discovering all the ways they fit each other- the way her thighs pressed snug around his waist, the way his cupped palms were exactly right to cradle her hips. His hands curled into the rumpled pleats of her skirt and she figured there were infinite ways for their limbs to fit together, to intertwine, to collapse together, and she was determined to find them all.

His tongue melded into hers, selfish, unyielding, and possessive as he kissed her, seeking more heat, more depth, more everything. Scorpius tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue teasing hers in a heated dance they had perfected over the months. His lips were so unbearably warm, the taste of his mouth made her water with the desire for more.

His tie was missing and his shirt had come half unbuttoned. Deciding it only seemed fair to finish the job, Rose undid the remaining buttons, trailing her fingertips lightly over his chest and smiling as Scorpius shivered in response.

Scorpius growled, a strangled, urgent sound against her lips. Hearing that sound, Rose writhed like she was on fire, grinding insistently against the sudden, not unwelcome hardness she found against her, signaling more. She was crazed, undone, drifting somewhere outside her own body but incontrovertibly aware of every touch, every breath warming her skin. Nothing and nobody had ever been like this. She had always thought her friends were making it up, exaggerating whenever they went on about boys. Or worse, she thought maybe she was the problem, dysfunctional somehow, not a real girl because she just didn't see what all the fuss was about. It was nice with boys and she had enjoyed herself with them before, but this . . . she had no words.

Finally disengaging her mouth from his, Rose kissed the underside of his jaw and pressed quick kisses against his collarbone and the hollow at the base of his throat, before Scorpius tilted her chin up to kiss her again. The hand that had been on her hip now moved down her leg, and under the hem of her skirt. When the tips of his fingers caressed light circles against her inner thighs and slid under her knickers, Rose pulled back abruptly, causing Scorpius to immediately withdraw.

"Sorry," he said, his voice rougher than usual.

"It's all right," she gulped. They stared at each other for a moment, both breathing quickly. The look in Scorpius' eyes made her heart beat faster and compelled her to add, "Maybe we should, um . . ." She hesitated, trying to figure out how to ask that they slow down without sounding like a complete prude.

"Okay," Scorpius said, saving Rose the necessity of speaking. He kissed her again lightly, and they rearranged themselves into a less compromising position. Scorpius slid his arm behind her back, and she leaned her head against his chest, feeling his still-accelerated heart beat under her cheek.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, flushing almost as darkly as her hair.

"No, no. Don't apologize. I'm the one who should be saying sorry," he cleared his throat and she saw his Adam's apple bob up and down.

"We've never gone that far before." She chirped.

The whole incident was wonderful at first, but had such an embarrassing ending that it lead to a silent and somewhat uncomfortable walk back to the common room. Rose was sure she had messed everything up and she hated herself for being cautious about something she wanted so badly.

She scanned the common room, eyes snagging over the debris of cups and Christmas decorations from the party earlier. Rose turned towards the girls' dormitories when Scorpius pulled her back.

"Rose, I'm so sorry about earlier. We can take this slow."

Her heart unclenched and her lungs took in a gulp of oxygen she didn't realize she had been depriving herself of.

"I'll still take what I can get though," he chuckled, pointing up at some mistletoe floating innocently above their heads.

She smiled and kissed him chastely. "Happy Christmas, Scor." She whispered.

"Happy Christmas, Rose."


	25. Kiss

**Kiss**

Most people doubted that a Malfoy and a Weasley could ever be friends. And given the personalities of Scorpius and Rose, at first it seemed likely that the families' animosity towards each other would live on. They were opposites in nearly every regard. She was brash and confident; He was a reserved introvert. Rose preferred sunrises; Scorpius favored sunsets. She had dozens of friends; He had Rose and Albus. Scorpius studied constantly; Rose was an excellent student, but extremely lazy about studying. Scorpius ate slowly, chewing each bite with care; Rose, coming from a large family, inhaled her food before it could disappear onto the plates of others. She tended to overreact; He was always composed. Rose cried easily and wore her emotions on her sleeve; Scorpius did not know how to handle tears. She excelled in Charms; He was excellent at Potions. The list went on and on.

The pair were very different people, but when it came to overthinking, the two were united in the tendency. Rose's came in the form of a mindless stream of consciousness, her brain a hum of random yet somehow connected thoughts and ideas. She often shared her thoughts with others without a filter, looking for a release of the buildup of rapid fire thoughts whirling around in her mind. Scorpius was similar, but instead of sharing every thought with others, he often kept them to himself. Particularly when it was a strong emotion, he would often get caught up in every insignificant detail of the moment, letting it ruminate in his mind far past its welcome.

At the moment, Rose was thinking about Scorpius. This was nothing new, he never strayed far from her thoughts.

Rose knew that Scorpius loved the Weird Sisters and that his toothbrush was green. He wouldn't bother to button his shirts correctly but always made his bed. When he slept, he curled into himself and sometimes he snored. His eyes were the color of the Black Lake on an overcast day, but they would turn steely in moments of anger and frustration. She knew one million little things about Scorpius Malfoy but when he approached her out of the blue under their tree at the Black Lake and kissed her, her mind went completely blank.

It didn't happen the way it always did in the muggle movies. She hadn't just dashed to the airport to make a sweeping declaration of unbridled love. She didn't crash his wedding. It didn't happen on a romantic beach at sunset.

No, her first kiss with Scorpius happened in possibly the most mundane way possible, but she couldn't imagine it happening any other way.

The air was swollen with humidity, just like his lips were. She thought maybe this was another day dream, but he felt so solid in her arms.

Rose looked up, lips slightly parted in question.

He leaned in and kissed her again, sweet and quiet, exactly the way she expected. The world seemed to lapse into silence, the warmth of his closeness enveloping them.

Then, when she kissed him back, shy and tender, both of their minds went pleasantly blank.

Their lips met, melted, and her heart beat into his throat, pulsing along the heated, shared air between them. He was so soft as his hands roamed down her torso to wrap around her waist and she pressed her curves into his. They both moaned at the sensation of that first real kiss as they pulled apart and were persuasively drawn together.

In mere moments, the greed became a consuming, fiery coercion starting in her belly and moving outwards to burn and pound through every vein and artery in her body. She knew she would never get enough of this, of him.

His expression softened. "Rose," he whispered, so quietly she almost missed it. The way he said her name, so affectionate and tender, brought a feverish warmth to her cheeks. An odd sort of ache clutched in her chest, as though her heart was trying to contain the happiness threatening to escape her.

Seconds later he was detached from her and beaming like he'd always meant to do that, like he just hadn't gotten around to it yet, and she just laughed, by Merlin what else was there to do?

"I can't tell you how long I've been thinking about doing that." He had a befuddled expression, as if he too expected to wake up from a dream at any moment.

"Me too," she giggled.

It was perfect.

Somehow, out of all their differences, this was something they both knew was right, perfect. They balanced each other.

They both went on to overthink those simple first kisses, replaying them over and over in their minds until they had a chance to simply stop thinking and kiss again.


	26. Choice

**A/N: Hi friends! Just a warning I'm probably going to disappear for the next few months, so updates will be very rare (if at all). I'm starting school again full time to get my Master's and probably won't have time to update as much as I'd like. Writing is a great form of stress relief for me though, so I'll try to post when I can.**

**Choice**

Rose wouldn't have come down to breakfast at all, if it hadn't been for her desperate need for a cup of tea. Tea had always helped soothe her, calmed her when she felt on edge. She had been avoiding meal times all week, and if her stomach hadn't betrayed her, she would have happily continued avoiding the Great Hall and the many people she didn't wish to see. Well, only two people, actually.

The moment she entered her eyes were drawn to them, like a mouse trapped in the gaze of an eagle. She felt eaten alive by the very sight of them.

The pair were speaking to each other softly, foreheads together, their blonde heads standing out against their black robes. She tried to pass them as inconspicuously as possible, but Scorpius seemed to have a kind of sixth sense, always knowing when Rose was near him.

"Rose," he greeted her. She sighed inwardly at having been caught. "Come and join us."

"Oh, no. That's okay. I just came down for a spot of tea."

"Oh, alright then." The corners of his mouth quirked down slightly.

Penelope must have sensed her boyfriend's displeasure. "No really, come sit with us." The Hufflepuff chimed in, gesturing to the seat across from her.

Rose groaned inwardly at her rotten luck. She had about as much desire to chat with Scorpius and his new girlfriend as she did wrestling the giant squid. There were a few moments of awkward silence as the three of them wracked their brains for something to say. Rose busied her hands by making her tea. She clutched at the hot cup wedged between her hands, thankful to have something to look at besides the couple across from her.

After a few more silent moments Penelope must have decided the tension was too great. "Oh, Scorpius, I just remembered, I have a Muggle Studies essay due Monday. I should probably finish it." Penelope stood, trying to escape the awkward energy between Scorpius and Rose.

In what felt like endless moments, Rose watched as Scorpius' eyes left hers and strayed towards Penelope. He had a choice to make. A simple choice. But a symbolic choice nonetheless. Rose or Penelope.

Scorpius' body turned ever so slightly away from Rose, and she knew he had made his pick. "I'll come with you." He decided.

With a fleeting glance at Rose, Scorpius slipped his hand into Penelope's and guided her out of the Great Hall. Rose watched them go, the tea she had drunk roiling in her stomach like acid.


	27. Trying

**A/N: This chapter builds off chapter 22, Expectant**

**Trying**

The wind blew ceaselessly, smelling of salt and faraway places. It whipped strands of hair out of her bun, creating red streaks around her, blocking her view of the cloudless blue sky. The breeze was slightly cool but the caress of the sun on her skin offset her shiver. As Rose walked along the shore alone, she took a moment to enjoy the coarse sand pulling her down into the water. She was enjoying the opportunity to clear her mind, enjoy the solitude, and let the sounds of the waves scraping the shore overtake her thoughts.

She had started their vacation the day before without Scorpius, as he had an important meeting at work and couldn't join her until later today. She was about to turn back towards her Uncle Bill's cottage where they were staying when a warm body pressed in behind her and comforting arms came around her middle. She knew it was him before she could see him, or even hear him speak. There was something very distinctive about her husband's heat.

She didn't realize how much she had needed him, his touch, until that moment. Like she had been underwater for far too long and now delicious oxygen was gushing into her swollen lungs. Her delighted sigh slid through the air.

"I've missed you," he whispered, against the curve of her earlobe, the slow torturous movement of his lips against the shell of her ear causing her to gasp in response. "So much…"

"I only arrived a day before you," she turned, smiling up at him.

"You know that's not what I meant." He shook his head.

She knew what he meant. This vacation was not purely for the sake of taking a vacation. It came at the suggestion of Rose's healer, who suggested the couple take some time away from their everyday lives to reconnect with one another and enjoy some much needed rest and relaxation.

"Come on." She pulled him along. "Now that you're here we can watch the sunset together. The best place to see it is down over there near those rocks," she pointed a little further down the beach.

As they settled into the sand waiting for the sun to slip down under the water, Rose couldn't help but notice the family sitting nearby. She had been avoiding families with small children for months now. The pang in her heart for what could have been was just too great.

Normally, she would have looked away swiftly, but her eyes couldn't stray from the little girl running on chubby, unsteady toddler legs. Her hair was only a shade darker than Scorpius', her eyes only a few shades off of her husband's too. Rose felt transfixed by the child as she toddled, unbalanced due to the shifting sands under her feet, in a little blue ruffled bikini and saggy diaper, collecting shells along the shore line. When she strayed a bit too far, her mom called her back to where the rest of the family was sitting. The little girl deposited the shells in her mom's lap, smiling and giggling as her mom praised and thanked her for the simple gift.

"Pink, Momma." She pointed to the little shell. "This one white." She explained, picking each one up with care and then arranging them carefully on her mom's leg.

Scorpius followed Rose's gaze and smiled toward the toddler. "She's adorable," he commented softly as he kissed Rose's forehead.

"Mmhmm," she muttered, distractedly.

The child plopped down in the sand, mimicking her older sister by digging a little hole with her pink plastic shovel.

Rose couldn't help but watch the children with a smile. The pain was still there, she knew she was still fragile from loss, and all too aware of the doubt and fear that another pregnancy could bring. But she was gaining courage each day make the decision to try again. And there was something about these little girls, something in their abnormal concentration on their little task of shoveling sand, something in the way their lips puckered in a way reminiscent of her husband's that made her long for a child of their own.

"Scorpius," she blurted out with no preamble. "I'm ready to try again."

"Are you sure?" He was startled by her sudden declaration.

"I've been thinking about it for a while now." She admitted.

The smile that crossed his face was brighter than a lumos charm. He ran the back of his hand down her cheek and then picked up both of her hands in his.

The kiss that followed felt as though they crashing into each other like the waves against the shore- inevitable, quick, and overpowering.


	28. Universe

**Universe**

The night their daughter was born was nothing short of miraculous. From the moment the infant was laid on her chest, Rose's whole universe shifted. Before it had been Rose and Scorpius. Just the two of them, together on a planet spinning around in the middle of absolute nowhere. And then suddenly the universe felt much smaller, centered around this tiny, perfect human they had created. _Their baby_. She still couldn't wrap her head around the absurd perfection of it all.

The jarringly absolute love that pounded through her veins was such that Rose was grateful to have gravity to affix her to the ground. She could have simply floated away with wonder and happiness if not for her daughter's gravitational pull.

"We still haven't settled on a name," Scorpius reminded her later that evening. "We can't call her 'tadpole' forever." He chuckled and shifted the baby's head further into the crook of his arm. As he approached the window, it was as if the stars themselves wanted to peak in to see the baby. The soft light cast the whole room alight in an unearthly gold, allowing Rose to appreciate the downy fuzz of hair on their daughter's head. It was the color of liquid moonlight, an exact replica of her husband's white blonde locks.

As Rose stared at her little family, it became blinding obvious what the baby's name would be.

"How about Emma?" She suggested.

"Emma?" He echoed. "That wasn't one of the names on our list."

Rose shrugged. "I know. But it means 'whole' or 'universal.' Seems fitting, don't you think?"

"Emma." He agreed, repeating her name with almost feverish reverence.

"It's decided then." Rose concluded, gazing at her whole universe.


	29. Stars

**A/N: Just a reminder to y'all that I start grad school starts next week. So, there may be one more chapter but then I'm probably going to ghost on you guys for a few months. Writing this story has been really fun though, and I promise I'll come back to it when I can. This chapter was requested by J. I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Stars**

The night of their final sixth year Astronomy exam was clear and temperate. A perfect night for stargazing.

Scorpius had always enjoyed Astronomy. The names of the stars and movements of the planets had always come naturally to him. He appreciated the way that seemingly random dispersed light patterns, stars and planets that were billions of miles apart, could somehow make shapes in earth's night sky. In some of his earliest childhood memories, he remembered observing cracks in the ceiling of abandoned rooms in Malfoy Manor and searching for shapes in the clouds. Stargazing now was a lot like that for him—making patterns out of randomness. He found it soothing to make order out of the chaos.

As he filled out his star chart, he lingered a bit on the constellation that bore his name, taking extra care to label each star. Like his father before him, Scorpius was given a traditional, astronomical wizard's name. But when he was younger, he hated it.

Absolutely hated it, because it was really weird. It just wasn't a normal name. And he couldn't ask people to call him by his middle name, Hyperion, because that was somehow even worse than his first name.

He had asked his dad about his name once, when he was small. He told his father he was worried he would be teased for his name when he started school. This earned him a serious look from Draco, who bent down to his son's level and sighed.

"Scorpius, you may get teased at school for your name. But most likely it won't be because of your first name."

"What do you mean?" Scorpius interrupted.

"I mean they may tease you because you're a Malfoy. You know the stories. But your mother and I know how smart and how kind you are. If any of the other kids tease you, it will be because of me, and our family's history. That's my fault and I'm sorry. It's not a reflection of you. Just try to keep that in mind and be as mature about it as you can."

Being only eleven at the time, Scorpius found it difficult to take his father's words to heart. He was still extremely anxious about being teased, and decided that the easiest course of action would just be to avoid everyone, and keep a low profile in school. No one could tease him if they didn't even know him, he reasoned.

His plan was derailed about five minutes after boarding the train on his first day when he met Rose. He was relieved that she never once commented on his name, never once cared that he was a Malfoy. Her cousin Albus cared only to the extent that Scorpius was a bit of a mouthful, and resorted to calling him Scor instead.

In fact, everyone called him Scor. Once the nickname caught on, even his professors stopped calling him by his full name. Well, everyone except for Rose. He preferred being called Scor, but for some reason he didn't mind it when Rose called him by his full name.

He was reminded of that reason after their exam as they trailed away from the rest of their class into an empty corridor. Within moments he had her pinned against the wall, breathing in her lilac and honey scent.

"Mmmm. Scorpius," she moaned when his lips brushed against her neck. He had always loved the sound of his name on her lips, lingering on the 'o,' softly hissing out the 's' at the end. _Scorpius, Scorpius, Scorpius._ The sound of Rose saying his name bounced around in his head. The way she said it, in a whisper, like a prayer, made him hate his name much less.

"What did you think of the exam?" He pulled back, sweeping his fingers through her hair to move it away from her face.

"Shhh." She tapped her index finger against his lips. "We can talk about that later," she purred. As her finger was replaced by her lips, he could have sworn he was seeing stars.


	30. Technicolor

**A/N: I originally wrote this a year ago as a separate story, but it fits in with this collection of one-shots so I figured I'd include it here.**

**Technicolor**

Scorpius Malfoy had always considered himself to be exceedingly plain, reticent, and a bit boring. He couldn't help but feel that everything about him was dull... lacking.

He felt sure that his pale blonde hair, flat grey eyes, and fair complexion made him look washed out, as though he could lean up against a white wall and camouflage himself away from the world.

It didn't help that he dressed inconspicuously- white, grey, black, and the occasional green were the only colors in his wardrobe- he thought it paired well with his restrained personality.

He lived in a world of varying shades of grey, and that was all he had ever known.

He was like a black and white film. But Rose- Rose was in Technicolor.

She was a firecracker. Bright, intelligent, creative, happy- she was one of those people who was really _alive. S_ he exuded her vibrant personality, boundless energy, and ability to love so fiercely and with such passion that it made him question why he had ever thought the world was dull or that he could slip away from it quietly and unnoticed.

She brought color and light to his world- driving out any shade of grey that was once there.

"Scorpius," She sang out his name, lingering on the 'or' and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He glanced out in front of him towards the Black Lake, which reflected the perfect, cloudless blue sky. "What?" He asked, turning to her.

"You were lost in thought again." She informed him, shifting on their blanket and slipping a book mark between the pages she was reading.

"Oh, sorry." He flushed.

"It's fine. I like when you go into your own little world," she teased lightly.

"Why's that?" He questioned.

"Because then I get to bring you out of it," she leaned toward him to kiss him softly. "So, what were you thinking about?"

"You," he replied simply.

He looked at her, trying to convey as much love and hope and warmth as he could without having to put what he was feeling into words. Because surely no words could adequately describe how she managed to light up his entire being and color his entire world.

He doesn't know if he was successful, but Rose smiled lazily anyway and rested her head against his chest.

He retreated back into his own thoughts and his own little world, a world in Technicolor since she had entered it.


	31. Seventeen

**Seventeen**

When Scorpius woke up to a bright, cold morning, it took him a moment to realize that he was now officially seventeen years old. _No, we're seventeen_ , he mentally corrected himself. Rose's birthday was the week before his. He liked that he said 'we' in his subconscious now more than 'Rose and I.' _We_. They were a unit, a package deal, there wasn't one without the other. And now the sixth years were both of age, seventeen-year-old, fully qualified wizards.

Seventeen. It just happened to be how many times they had said 'I love you' to each other as well. It was probably closer to a million and seventeen if you included all the times they said it to each other casually as friends. But now they were together, and he'd been keeping track. There was something immensely wonderful and satisfying about that number, and how he could still recall the feel of each one. Of course, he could never tell Rose he had kept track of a sappy thing like the number of times they'd exchanged 'I love yous.' She'd probably tease him for mentally cataloguing each one and ruin it for him. But that was all right. It was his secret joy only for him. And besides, he had a feeling that soon enough he'd lose track as the number climbed higher and higher. And that thought was even more wonderful.

As he slipped out of his dormitory and made his way down to the common room, he considered how he would tell her again just how much he loved her. Their relationship was relatively new, and Rose wasn't into grand, over the top displays. So, Scorpius tried to think of more subtle, romantic ways to tell and show her.

As soon as he spotted her near the fireplace, he was drawn to her like a moon that clung to its planet. Most of the school knew they were a couple, but Rose was still hesitant when it came to public displays of affection. Nevertheless, her lips brushed against his like the feather on a quill tickling his mouth as he thought about what to write next. And then they were gone. She'd pulled back before he even had time to close his eyes or adjust to the fact that Rose was kissing him. In public, in front of everyone. He tried to mask his confusion and surprise. But then she was kissing him again with that same light touch, like a whisper, before it was again over all too quickly. Each kiss had called to mind a single word, one that he'd never associated with Rose before: shy.

"Happy Birthday," she chirped as she trailed her fingers down his arms. "I got you a present." She thrust the small square package into his hands and pulled him down onto the couch next to her.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he shook his head, starting to pull at the green wrapping paper.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I did. You only turn seventeen once in your life."

He opened a small black box to discover a handsome gold watch with stars circling around the face instead of hands.

"I know it's a bit expected. It's traditional for men to get a watch for their seventeenth, but I can return it if you don't like it," she babbled.

"No, I love it." He kissed her to stop her worrying. "And I love you. Thanks, Rose."

"You're welcome." She blushed. "I love you too, Scorpius." He'd never heard her say anything as ridiculously perfect as those five little words. _I love you too, Scorpius._

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember everything about the eighteenth time Rose Weasley told him she loved him.

He kissed the top of her head and grabbed her hand as they walked out of the common room to get breakfast. If he was being completely honest, he didn't even need her birthday gift. Rose's words were more than enough.


	32. Responsible

**A/N: 2 Chapters in one day? Y'all are spoiled ;) As usual feel free to review and give suggestions of chapters you'd like to see (I'll try to write them before I disappear for school next week, pinky promise).**

**Responsible**

Both Rose and Scorpius had been told multiple times throughout childhood and adolescence they were mature beyond their years. As Head Boy and Girl, they were seen as steady, responsible people, immune to the childishness to which many of their peers were susceptible.

But despite his grown-up façade, Scorpius didn't know if he was old enough to be considering marriage as seriously as he was.

The idea of it dripped in the back of his mind constantly, like a leaky faucet. Every time he saw Rose, it threatened to leak out of him. As if he were stuck by an _engorgio_ spell, at any moment he felt ready to burst and ask her to be with him forever.

Scorpius was going mad. He had to talk to someone about it, someone who wasn't Rose. He didn't want to scare her off with how seriously he was considering their future. Merlin, they were only eighteen. He had to know if he was being naïve, or presumptive, so he brought it up to Albus one day during free period. Nervously, delicately, he somehow choked out the words "Albus, I want to marry Rose." His friend barked his laughter and was shot down by a very stern glance from the librarian.

"It's taken you long enough to admit it. I'm surprised you haven't asked her already."

Scorpius was slightly relieved by his friend's reaction. At least he hadn't immediately called him barmy. "But you don't think we're too young? That it would be irresponsible? You don't think we'd be letting our hormones overrule sensibility?"

"Scor, you and Rose are more married than most married couples probably are. If anyone can handle the responsibility of marriage, it's you two." He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Scorpius wasn't entirely convinced though.

Albus' words soothed some of his anxiety, but he was still hesitant to ask Rose while they were still in school. He didn't need everyone making all the typical, judgmental assumptions that came with marrying young.

So, he tried to wedge his plans into the back of his mind and enjoy his last few months at Hogwarts. He found that as school was winding down, he could enjoy himself more; He shed some of his carefully maintained sense of maturity and allowed himself to just be a teenager for his last few weeks at school.

He may have taken his more devil-may-care attitude a bit too far one night at a seventh-year graduation party though. The alcohol was flowing more freely than usual and all sense of responsibility seemed to fly out the window as Rose and Scorpius took advantage of one of the last parties with all of their schoolmates.

By the end of the night it seemed as if there was more firewhiskey in their veins than blood, their laughs escaped loudly, and there was numbness in their toes. Rose's cheeks were as red as her hair. Still, Scorpius thought she was the most beautiful girl in the room.

"Oi, Rosie," he laughed, though he didn't know why.

"Oi, Scorpy," she giggled at the nickname she had never used for him, her voice slippery and slurred.

"I am very, very sloshed right now." He confessed, crumpling up a plastic cup in his hand. She simply laughed at him. "No, Rosie. I swear, the room is spinning."

Rose laughed at him again. "The room isn't spinning, Scor. I promise." She did an ostentatious twirl and stumbled back into his arms. "See? I'm the one spinning." She drunkenly explained. The pair swayed back and forth, dancing slowly, out of time with the music.

"You look so beautiful tonight, love. Can I tell you a secret?" His tongue was much looser than usual. He couldn't stop the flow of words escaping him.

"Oooh, yes. I love secrets." She batted her impossibly long eyelashes at him and snaked her arms snugly around his waist. It was very nearly his undoing.

"I think I'm going to ask you to marry me sometime soon." He whispered in her ear. Rose froze. Even in her inebriated state, his words registered through the haze and the shock came slowly. Nonetheless, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Everything felt warm, everything felt right, everything felt safe. Despite the loud music, the loud chatter of their classmates, the dozens of people swaying around them, the whole party seemed far away and removed, as if it were just the two of them standing there.

She leaned in, pressing herself even closer against him. Her surprised little pants of hot breath on his neck made him tingle everywhere. His hand at the base of her back held her firmly in place as she wound her arms around his neck and raised herself higher on her feet, pulling her face closer to his.

"What do you think about that?" He questioned when she didn't respond.

For a moment, Rose's mother drifted idly through her thoughts. Her strong, independent mother who would probably be horrified at the thought of her barely legal daughter getting married right out of school. That's simply not what smart, responsible women did. This thought was quickly pushed aside when Scorpius' eyes migrated from her eyes to her lips though. He held his gaze there for a moment, before flicking his eyes back up to meet hers again.

"I think I'll say yes." She whispered, a serious, thoughtful look in her eyes.

Scorpius was sure he looked ridiculous as his mouth stretched into a goofy grin, but he couldn't seem to control his actions or gather his thoughts into coherent sentences.

His head was in a fog. He felt warm and brave and slightly dizzy. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the response she just shared with him, but he felt as though he could float away with happiness.

"I'll say yes, too," he gave her his most impressive lopsided smile.

"You're going to be the one asking me, silly." She laughed loudly and gripped his shoulders to stay steady.

The couple continued laughing and swaying until the end of the party, both of them forgetting the conversation by the next morning.


	33. Gone

**A/N: This chapter is for** **psychicspyarrowangel. They suggested that I write a chapter outside of the Scor/Rose perspective. I tried haha- I felt a lot more comfortable writing as Astoria than Draco, so the end isn't as strong as I would have liked. But here ya go- I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Gone**

_My dearest Scorpius,_

_It is my sincerest hope that you never read this, that I can tell you all of this directly and throw this letter away. It likely won't turn out as I hope._

_In the event you are reading this, I would first like to give you my deepest apologies that I am not there. Graduating from Hogwarts is a huge achievement and I am so proud of you. I have a feeling, call it a mother's intuition, that you will be Head Boy, alongside Rose Weasley. I've witnessed firsthand that together the two of you make an amazing team, the school is lucky to have leaders such as the two of you. Speaking of the lovely Rose, congratulate her for me as well._

_Indulge me Sweetheart, and allow me to give you a bit of motherly advice. I know that sometimes you are very guarded and cautious with your feelings. You are your father's son. But I want to remind you that sometimes our time with the ones we love is fleeting. It is precious, each moment we have with them. Please don't be too restrained with Rose. I've seen you together, and I know she loves you too. You probably don't know this, but I once overheard your conversation with her as you were leaving the train at the end of your third year. It must have been some kind of inside joke, because I didn't understand it at all- something about nifflers and chocolate pudding?_

_Anyway, I couldn't help but notice the way you two moved around each other. It was like watching rehearsed choreography- she would shift ever so slightly and you would move in time with her. She laughed at what you said and the joy on your face was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It makes my heart happy to know that you are so close to Rose, and that the two of you find such happiness in one another. Finding someone that special is a gift, and it is my hope that tonight you are celebrating with our family, which naturally includes Rose._

_As I write this letter, you are about to turn fifteen years old. I honestly can't wrap my head around it sometimes. You have grown to be such an incredible young man. You are the best thing that ever happened to me; my life was not complete until you were born. Your smile and laughter represent all that is pure and beautiful in this world. You are the sweetest, smartest, most incredible son I could have ever hoped for. When I was a young girl, I would often picture what my family would be like, but you and your father surpassed all my expectations. I could have never imagined a life as beautiful as the one I have lived._

_Try not to be too sad while reading this letter, think back on all our happiest times together. I want you to know that I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another person. It is a love, I hope you will find, that surpasses time and space._

_Again, congratulations on your graduation. This is a day you have worked very hard for, and I am so proud of you. You have such a bright and beautiful future ahead of you. Have fun. Enjoy every moment of it._

_Sending you all my love,_

_Mum_

Draco watched as his son's eyes became more and more clouded. He had never known how to handle tears, and certainly wasn't expecting to deal with them on a day as happy as his son's graduation.

"Scorpius," he started as gently as he could. He was glad he gave him the letter at dinner, not in public directly after the graduation ceremony as he had initially planned.

"I'm fine." Scorpius brushed him off. Always guarded and careful with his words, Draco knew his son was unlikely to talk to him about what he was feeling right now.

"I wasn't sure if I should give you the letter. I didn't want to upset you." Draco sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair.

"No, I needed to read it." Scorpius shook his head and stood up from his chair at the dining room table.

"Hey Dad," Scorpius started.

"Yes?"

"I love you." His son was usually so reserved, the statement caught Draco off guard.

"I love you too, Scorpius."

"Can I go see Rose?" His son stood there, practically vibrating, the letter still clutched tightly in his right hand.

"You can't send her an owl? I'm sure she's busy with her family." Draco reasoned. He wondered what was in his wife's letter that made his son so anxious to see Rose.

"I'm her family too." Scorpius muttered quietly. "No, this needs to be said in person."

"Okay." Draco acquiesced. "Don't be out too late."

"Okay," Scorpius promised quickly. With a soft pop, he was gone.


	34. Family

**A/N: You guys, I suck. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. Grad school is going well and I have a break for a few weeks so I'm hoping to post a few chapters before life gets hectic again. As always, your feedback means the world to me. This chapter is a continuation of the previous one, Gone.**

**Family**

With the queasy, gut-tightening feeling in his stomach releasing, Scorpius knew he had arrived at his intended destination. He typically preferred to fly, but apparition was much faster, and he felt intense urgency to see Rose. He rapped quickly on the door and was relieved to hear his girlfriend cry out "I'll get it" as she romped down the front hall.

The red-head gawked in surprise at his sudden arrival. "Scorpius," she started in surprise.

"I got a letter. From my mom." He rushed out, cutting Rose off.

"Your mom? Scor, your mom," Rose shook her head and closed the door, blocking out the sound of a Weasley family dinner behind her.

"Is dead." He said tonelessly, finishing Rose's sentence. "Yes, I'm aware. She wrote it before she died. Dad gave it to me after dinner."

"Well what did it say?" Rose scrunched her eyebrows in concern.

"That she was proud of me. Proud of us. She told me to tell you congratulations on graduating today." Still trying to process the flood of emotions he was experiencing, Scorpius looked to Rose to help steady him.

"That's so sweet." She leaned forward to peck Scorpius' cheek. "Godric, that's amazing that she wrote to you for today."

"Yeah, it is. She said that she considered you to be part of our family. And I just wanted you to know that I do too. I mean, you probably already know this. But I just thought I should tell you." Scorpius trailed off.

"I consider you to be my family too, Scor." Rose tilted her head to the side, sensing that something was off. "Would you mind if I read the letter?"

"Sure," he smoothed out the folded missive he had scrunched in his pocket. The couple sat down on the front porch step and read the parchment.

"Wow," Rose breathed. "This is amazing." She felt the prick of tears sting her eyes and her throat starting to tighten.

"I know. I can't believe how much she knew about us, even when there was nothing to know," Scorpius laughed dryly.

Rose chucked too, wiping away a few tears. "So much has changed these past few years."

"Yeah," Scorpius replied mindlessly, staring at his feet. The two sat in silence for a while longer, Rose re-reading the letter and Scorpius trying to process the overwhelming grief hitting him all over again.

"I miss her," he choked out.

"I know," Rose sniffled, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your dinner." Scorpius sighed. "I know your parents wanted dinner to just be family tonight." He grabbed her wrists and leaned in to kiss Rose goodbye.

"Wait, you should stay." She stopped him as he stood up.

"Really?" He questioned.

"Well it's a family dinner, and as we've established, you're family."

"Okay then," he grinned.

"Okay then," Rose smiled back, grabbing his hand and opening the door.


	35. Rosie

**Rosie**

The day she turned thirteen, Rose banished her nickname from everyone's lips. With childish insistence, the now-officially-a teenager-thank-you-very-much deemed 'Rosie' babyish and went through a phase where she refused to respond to anyone who called her it.

As the years went by people naturally stopped calling her Rosie, and her childish dramatics ceased as well. So rarely did people call her by her childhood nickname that it caught her by surprise when it slipped off Scorpius' tongue one night in a broom closet.

"Don't call me that," she rolled her eyes instinctively.

"I can't help it, Rosie," he smirked and nipped at the shell of her ear. "That is your name you know."

"You know how much I hate it," she panted.

"Mmmm. Rosie," his voice sounded more gravely than usual as he continued his ministrations near her ear. She quite liked it.

"You're hopeless," she laughed. Suddenly 'Rosie' didn't sound so bad after all.


	36. Reassurance

A/N: This one loosely connects to chapter 24, Mistletoe. M for language.

**Reassurance**

"And then he fucked me until I couldn't remember my own name anymore." The tall blonde whispered mischievously, waving her wand lazily to put a library book back on the shelf.

"Alice Augusta Longbottom! You watch your language," Rose whispered, half mockingly sarcastic, half genuinely scandalized.

"Oh, come on, you know how it is. I'm surprised you don't have permanent amnesia the way you and Scor are always together," Rose's best friend waggled her eyebrows and strolled back to their spot in the library.

"It's not like that with Scorpius," Rose quickly stammered to correct her friend.

"Wait, you and Scor haven't..."

"No, we haven't," Rose interrupted the blonde as they passed a group of particularly gossipy sixth years.

"Never?" Allie asked incredulously.

"Never," Rose confirmed, heat pooling in her cheeks.

"But you guys are so... I mean surely you've at least," Allie struggled with how to respond.

"There was one night, we almost..." Rose trailed off. Her entire face felt as though it would burst into flames. "Can we please stop talking about this?" She implored.

"I'm just surprised, that's all. You two are made for each other." Allie shrugged her shoulders as they sat down amongst their various essays and books scattered across the table.

"Not necessarily," Rose retorted.

"What do you mean? You don't want to break up with him, do you?" Allie hissed quickly.

"No! Of course not!" Rose exclaimed loudly, earning her a glare from a nearby N.E.W.T. student. "I love Scor," she continued in a whisper.

"Then what's the problem?" Allie questioned.

"It's hard to explain," Rose mumbled, refusing to look up from her Potions notes. "It's like one day I woke up and all of the sudden we were _together_ , you know? And it's wonderful, don't get me wrong. But what if something happens? Sex seems to make everything so much more complicated. What if we sleep together and later we break it off and then we can't be friends anymore? What if..."

"Rose, that won't happen. Scorpius loves you."

Rose fiddled with her nails, embarrassed by her insecurity. "I know that but,"

"No but," Allie interrupted. "Even if you guys do break up, I know for a fact you two will be friends for life."

"How can you be so certain?" Rose looked to her friend with wide, concerned eyes.

"I just know." The blonde shook her head with finality.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. Davies was showing me his new Comet 5000. It was brilliant." Scorpius haphazardly spewed the contents of his bag next to Rose's. "Alright, Rosie?" Her boyfriend questioned as he sat down, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm brilliant," she pecked him on the cheek.

"Actually, she's being daft," Allie contradicted as she rolled her eyes.

"Not possible. Rose is the smartest girl on the planet," he smiled and tucked an auburn curl behind her ear.

"Not true." Rose sighed dramatically. "I'm fairly sure that a flobberworm would do better on this Potions essay than I would."

"You are the most ridiculous girl I've ever met," he laughed. "I don't know how I put up with you," he teased.

"Well I guess you'll just have to get used to it, because you're stuck with me for life," she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

"I guess so," he replied with a smirk.

Rose glimpsed at Allie, who met her gaze with a knowing smile.


	37. Speech

A/N: Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays everyone!

**Speech**

Albus Potter was never one for being the center of attention. He often left that to his very famous father and gregarious brother. Tonight, however, or at least for his five minute speech, everyone would be focused on him, and that made him understandably nervous. He fiddled with his wand for a good ten minutes as Allie Longbottom finished giving her regards and all too soon, it was his turn. He cleared his throat, set his sonorous charm to the right volume, and ran his fingers through his unruly hair one last time as he stood up in front of everyone.

"Good evening, everyone. For those of you who don't know me, or are too sloshed to remember at the moment, my name is Albus Potter and I am the best man. I'm going to tell you all a little story tonight, but before I do, I've got a bone to pick with my cousin. Rose, I was hoping to be the best-looking person in the room today but obviously I got upstaged. Doesn't she look beautiful, everyone?"

The guests laughed at Al's antics and clapped their approval of the bride's appearance. As the crowd quieted, Albus continued with his speech.

"I've had the distinct pleasure of knowing, for a considerable portion of my life, both the bride and groom individually, before knowing them as a couple. People called us the silver trio in our school days, though to me, we were just Albus, Rose and Scorpius. The jock, the girl next door, and the brain. We spent more time together than apart and I can honestly say there are no two people I would rather have as my best friends.

Given that the three of us are so close, I've had the privilege to see their relationship at every stage. I was there when they first met; I was there for most of their ridiculous fights; I was there the day Scorpius first asked out Rose on a date; and they might not know it, but I was there the first time Scorpius kissed Rose.

It was in our fifth year, about a year before they started dating. Scorpius had been in the library studying late that night, and Rose was in the common room playing Exploding Snap with me. She didn't admit it to me at the time, but she only stayed downstairs so late because she had been waiting for Scorpius. Anyway, we both fell asleep in the common room, and when I woke up, I saw Scorpius coming in from the library. He spotted Rose on the couch, smoothed back her hair, and kissed her forehead. As he turned away, I could have sworn I saw Rose smile as she slept. I was still groggy, but I heard Rose humming as she crept up to her room a few minutes later. The next morning, I heard Scorpius humming in the shower, and surprise surprise, it was the same song I had heard the night before. Do you guys remember what it was?" He asked the bride and groom. Rose had clearly forgotten but Scorpius nodded his head, urging him to finish his story.

"The song they were humming was _I Think I'm in Love_ by the Weird Sisters. And that was the day I knew that my best friends would eventually get married. They were nauseatingly in love before they were even a couple, even if they hadn't admitted it to each other yet.

To see two people care for and adore each other as much as they do is something truly special. And tonight I want to give my most sincere congratulations to the two best people I know. Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in raising your glasses to the bride and groom. To Rose and Scorpius. Cheers!"

"To Rose and Scorpius," everyone echoed.

Albus quickly sat down, relieved that the focus was off him.

"How'd I do mate?" He asked Scorpius. Surprisingly, the blonde stopped ogling his bride long enough to give Al a smile as he rubbed his eye. "Scor are you crying?" Albus chucked.

"Oh, shut it. Everyone cries at weddings. Isn't that right, Rose?" The groom questioned as he turned to his wife, also misty eyed. As Scorpius kissed Rose's forehead, and Al felt as though he were fifteen again.

"You two are so sentimental," he teased.

"I can't believe you never told us that story," Rose shook her head.

"Well, I knew it would be perfect for my wedding speech and I wanted it to be a surprise," Al explained.

"Now who's being sentimental?" Scorpius pointed out to his best man.

"Fair point," Albus laughed.


	38. Quirks

**Quirks**

If Scorpius was being completely honest, he would tell you that Rose Weasley was a little weird. Devastatingly beautiful, but weird. Over the years, he realized that the redhead was not one to behave like other girls in their year. He never saw her wear short skirts or swap hair and makeup charms while gossiping about the newest Witch Weekly. He never saw her giggle and twirl her hair when the head boy strolled by in the corridors. Quite the opposite. She never showed interest in wearing trendy clothing on the weekends, preferring to wear obscure muggle t-shirts (Merlin only knows what a Foo Fighter or a Led Zepplin is). Her messy curls seemed to be nothing but an annoyance to her, constantly required to be swept back with a dragon bone clip. She never wore a drop of makeup and never so much as glanced up as boys walked past her (unless it was Scorpius, much to his intense delight).

Not only did she not dress or act like the other girls, she didn't act much like the boys in their year either. She didn't know a single thing about quidditch, she wasn't interested in pranks or dragons or Exploding Snap. Rose Weasley seemed to be in a category all her own. He found himself amused and fascinated by her uniqueness.

Over time he learned just how different Rose was. It was the little things. Like the way she hiccupped when she laughed for a long time or the way she would only eat the red Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. There was the way she was constantly fidgeting, the way she picked at her fingernails, the way she was so gullible her cousins were able to convince her of outlandish stories about the giant squid. The way she preferred muggle photographs to wizard ones and the way she was the most endearingly awkward dancer he had ever seen. There was the way she tucked her wand behind her ear instead of just sliding it in her back pocket like everyone else and the way she refused to take anything in life too seriously.

So yeah, Rose Weasley was a little weird. But he preferred to think of it as quirky. And if he wasbeing completely honest, that was what he liked most about her.

* * *

 

If Rose was being completely honest, she would tell you that Scorpius Malfoy was a little weird. Wickedly intelligent, but weird. She knew he liked to keep quiet and not draw attention to himself, but Rose was too observant for her own good. She quickly discovered all of his secrets. Like the fact that he could recite the name of every Hogwarts headmaster in order and memorized every secret passage way in the castle before he ever stepped foot in it. She chuckled when she found out he was fascinated by muggle bicycles and got mad when he couldn't master how to ride one. She noticed the way he always carried spare parchment around in case he wanted to write down one of his random ideas for a novel. He had absolutely no sense of direction and would always get lost (she was convinced he couldn't make it to the Ancient Runes classroom without her). He tucked a quill behind his ear when he was reading and would often write out certain passages from books. He was always doodling in History of Magic yet somehow knew the date of every single Goblin riot. He had no interest in quidditch yet could recite facts and statistics about each of the teams from memory weeks after reading the sports section of The Daily Prophet.

Maybe the weirdest thing about him, the thing that set him apart from all the other boys in their year, was that whenever the topic of girls came up, he never seemed to express interest. She would often overhear slightly crude comments about Allie Longbottom's blonde hair or Grace Trainor's long legs; but for some reason Scorpius would never join in. In fact, he'd often look her way and smile apologetically or roll his eyes and shrug.

So yeah, Scorpius Malfoy was a little weird. But she preferred to think of it as quirky. And if she was being completely honest, that was what she liked most about him.


	39. Bedroom

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm not 100% happy with this one, but I haven't posted in a while so I figured I'd share it anyway.**

**Bedroom**

When Scorpius set foot in Rose's room for the first time, she felt a bit strange. It occurred to her that she had been in is dorm hundreds of times of the past five years and not once had he been in hers. It wasn't until the blonde strolled past the Wonder Witch doll of her dresser and her collection of Weasley's Double Trouble Bubble Gum wrappers that she realized what an intimate place a bedroom could be.

She couldn't suppress the little bubbles of anxiousness floating in her stomach as he glanced at the pale blue walls of her childhood bedroom with no discernible expression on his face. Suddenly Rose found the floorboards more fascinating than ever before. This was a bad idea, she kept telling herself. They should have just met in Diagon Alley for ice cream like they originally planned.

She was about to suggest they go back downstairs when Scorpius found her muggle television her grandpa Weasley had given her for Christmas the year before.

"What is this thing?" He scrunched his eyebrows together the same way he did as he worked a particularly hard transfiguration problem.

"It's a television," she explained.

"Never heard of it. What's it do?"

"Are you serious?" she rolled her eyes.

"Serious as spattergroit," he laughed.

"It's a miracle you passed muggle studies last year," she teased.

"Well enlighten me then, o wise one," he gestured to the device.

"Okay. I'll pick something out." She turned to her bookcase and pulled out her small selection of tapes. She chose quickly and turned around, finding him standing awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.

"I suppose we we could sit on my bed," she suggested. "It would be more comfortable than the floor."

"Right." Scorpius ran his fingers through his hair, something Rose had always interpreted as nervousness. He plopped down next to her with forced casualness and kicked off his shoes.

"Right then," she sat down next to him, more nervous than she had been when he first stepped foot in her room.

It was no different than sitting next to him on the couches in the common room, she told herself.

Over the course of the show her nerves subsided, Scorp's childlike fascination with the muggle device and silly commentary on the film putting her at ease. It wasn't until Hugo barged in that she realized how closely they had been lounging together. The pair sprung apart, suddenly embarrassed.

"Mum says it's time for dinner," Hugo announced.

"Great. That sounds great. I'm starving. How about you Rose? Great. Good. Let's eat then," Scorpius babbled at top speed and made way towards the stairs.

"Gross were you guys in here kissing or something?" Hugo asked as obnoxiously as only a little brother could.

"What? Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." Scorpius' face flushed.

"A lady never kisses and tells, Hugh," Rose teased both the boys.

"Whatever," the thirteen year old rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen.

"What was that?" Scorpius hissed.

"What?" Rose shrugged.

"I don't need your little brother thinking I'm some sort of.. of..." Scorpius trailed off, lost for words from embarrassment.

"Oh, Scor. Relax would you?" Rose laughed. He was just teasing us."

"You need better a better ward on your bedroom door," Scorpius grumbled, trailing downstairs after Hugo.

"I wouldn't object to that," Rose muttered, still chuckling quietly.


End file.
